


Seventh of May

by kathrynaryann



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Angst and Romance, F/F, Friendship, Implied/Referenced Torture, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Hogwarts, Post-War, Slow To Update
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:35:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 32
Words: 162,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28025577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kathrynaryann/pseuds/kathrynaryann
Summary: The story principally starts on May 7, 1998 - few days after the battle of Hogwarts and spanning several years, with several Seventh of May as crucial pit-stops for the lives of Hermione Granger and Minerva McGonagall.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Minerva McGonagall
Comments: 27
Kudos: 80





	1. Severus Snape laid to rest

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted at ff.net 
> 
> Just borrowing the characters from JK Rowling and spinning into my liking for several thousands of words, hence this would be a long read. Something to kidnap you from time to time, from your current life :)
> 
> There will be a dabble here and there of details that were written in the books and included in the movie, but some I have taken the liberty to expand or cut in order to suit the story. But definitely this is not for those who have set certain exclusions on love... Do NOT read if you can't find beauty in women loving women.

**Year 1998 - 1st Seventh of May**

**Morning**

* * *

Hermione Granger— heavily weighed down by the recently ended war and the enveloping aftermaths that plague war survivors had retreated at her parents' old house in London. They are still in Australia with altered memories and she has yet to deal with that aspect of her life once the borders open and be given permission by the Ministry to travel into another continent.

For nearly three days, she found herself ineffectual in her old bed on a self-imposed seclusion, mostly wasting away that even basic sustenance of eating and sleeping had been neglected. Consequently, she had become more lightheaded with each passing second. But the heaviness that had settled on her chest is too dominant that it seemingly fended off anything else but misery...

She barely managed to drag herself out of the house when she had to attend funerals; heavily glamoured to hide her sunken eyes and much pale complexion. She appeared only to handful of services for people she had considered good friends like Fred Weasley. Or Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Lupin. While Remus and Tonks are— were not exactly friends, they were close associates brought on by their relevant roles during the war.

The truth is, Hermione would rather not attend at all, not even Fred's — who was almost a brother to her… It is not for lack of respect for the dead, nor lack of sympathy for the left loved ones. One look at the Weasleys especially at the enduring twin brother George—Hermione knew, mentally fucked or not, indifference is not one she'd feel.

But really, what substance can she give right now that would truly matter to the Weasleys? Can she bring back Fred? Or just pay with default platitudes expected in a civilised society? What an irony when their society was just in fierce strife to alienate each other a few days ago? And honestly, who has the strength at this time when just getting out of bed takes extreme effort?

And while she understood that funerals are for goodbyes, in her mind, all of them have been saying goodbye to each other for quite sometime. They might as well started their long farewells the night that Sirius Black got killed, and Voldemort's return had been publicly acknowledged. That was when the official gun start of the war was fired. Harry's trip to the graveyard during the tri-wizard was the teaser...

As the morning light penetrates Hermione's window slowly but surely, she looked at the muggle calendar hanged at one wall and magically flipped to find the correct month only to realised that it was of previous year so she abandoned the cardboard. She cracked her brain to calculate the date. Today is the fifth day following the final battle- **Seventh of May**. Today is when they are due to finish with the last of the funeral service for all the lost lives of friends and foes. And reverently, it would end with **Severus Snape** —to be **laid to rest**.

Admittedly, she would not get out of the house today if it was not he being laid to rest. For Hermione, to attend is to take part in penance for wrongly judging Severus Snape. But foremost, to attend is to be there for Harry.

She knows her best friend too well. Undoubtedly he would exclusively claim all the guilt about not stopping Voldemort sooner…Take all faults in not saving the many fallen fellow students, friends and professors— especially Severus Snape.

So she found herself taking a shower where she stayed underneath the hot water until it almost burn her skin in order to overlap another ugly burn in her. She then glamoured herself to hide her misery like the previous days. She knew she has to put Harry first — at least for this morning. Despite her own internal struggle, she decided to lend her best friend some fortitude; something she did not know if she has to give… as she herself has been drowning in vagueness.

Standing behind Harry with Ron at her side, Hermione is very careful not to let her sight wonder, for it may lead her mind to confrontation she rather not deal right now. Not when she does not have the indulgence of seclusion. She kept herself in-check to not draw unwanted attention. She concentrated at Harry's back or at her shoes, while listening to the eulogy for their dead professor.

"Lets call a spade, spade."

The Headmistress of Hogwarts started. Nothing else could be heard but the venerated witch. Even the wind seem to have paused.

"None of us was any wiser about Severus Snape's true allegiance. We all believed that he betrayed and murdered Albus Dumbledore per Voldemort's bidding."

Even without looking around, Hermione knew that some still cringed at the loudly voiced name of Voldemort. She also knew that the ringing truth from the Headmistress is clipping everyone to an unerring silence and motionlessness. One would think she is not giving words of reverence for the dead professor, but casting a _massive_ stunning spell over the crowd in attendance.

"I myself duelled with him, believing that I have to— that I have to protect Mr. Potter from him. My 'supposed' brilliant mind _failed_ to grasp the factual matter that for the last year, while he did not outwardly protect the students and professors— neither did he subject anyone to much graver peril when he could have easily done so as Headmaster… When he could have handed out information concerning many of us to the death eaters. Make it simpler to eliminate us and expedite darkness."

The Headmistress is painstakingly pressing details that transpired at Hogwarts, switching the vantage point so that staff, students and parents altogether may comprehend the veracity of the circumstances during Snape headship. To some extent, particularly with the members of the Order, she is underlining the safeguard they had unknowingly received. There is no doubt, that Minerva McGonagall is strongly defining the context surrounding Severus Snape's heroism, and ending any disbelief, right here, right now. Unequivocally.

"Numerous times he must have inwardly slapped me at my _**Gryffindor foolishnes**_ **s** whenever _**Gryffindor courage**_ brought me to his office, under my own notion of defending the students and staff from him. Never supposing that he must have saved my back too many times, from the true death eaters residing with us at Hogwarts. How he managed to circumvent the death eaters' evil plan to remove me from Hogwarts and send me to Azkaban, or to my demise, I would never know. But I am eternally indebted."

For some reason, Hermione could identify too well with the frustrating sorrow emitting from the knowledge that 'she should have used her supposed logical mind'. That she should have seen how some things never quite add-up. How Snape had really done no harm to Harry, but in fact tried saving him a couple of times. She should have at least suspected something, her supposed 'golden brain' never failed her and the exasperation has added to her mounting misery.

"Coward… the last thing he heard me say to him."

Hermione flinched hearing the wearisome remark and could only guess how tenfold the sorrowfulness it had caused to a much brilliant witch such as Minerva McGonagall.

"I could not be more oblivious that we were still together against darkness, and fighting under the same banner of light."

As the steady words continued from the Headmistress, Hermione realised that the venerated woman is with her, with Harry, and who knows who else and how many more — who found themselves onboard in seeking penance.

"Hindsight after the war brings pain and liberation. Sorrow and tenderness are friends to visit us as we further uncover what parts played by whom in the war. Some truth would break more of our hearts, either through realisation of the poor choices we have deliberately made, or from letdown by others' partaking. A number of them would take a very long time before we could uncover its veracity, thus postpone the effect on us. However, for every facet we stumbled upon, as we bring ourselves forth, it is incumbent upon us, to faithfully learn the intended lessons, while we put back the scattered pieces our hearts... the cluttered bricks of our world"

Hermione let the well-known lilt washed over her, the one she had heard for six years at Hogwarts. She absorbed the distinct voice that she had always associated with studiousness and upstanding conduct… But with the recognition of its familiarity is the introduction of a considerable 'newness' that one could not negate.

She searched the owner of the voice for the customary Head of House she had come so many times for advance learning, support and advice. For the woman who had always welcomed her over-eagerness to learn without exasperation nor conceit but genuine interest. But the one she found in its place is not just her former Transfiguration Professor. The startling leap to that of _**THE Headmistress**_ is undeniable. And furthermore, the sound vibrates from no less than a three-time war heroine.

Hermione shoved down the creeping emotion and chastised her maudlin self. She _**cannot**_ afford to confront the 'after war reality' right now… Even later is a tall order… She re-focused her eyes at Harry's back, continued listening, and aimed her thoughts about Severus Snape, the wizard they are laying to rest.

"While Harry might continually feel that he had been too late in reaching Severus Snape that night, had he not reached him at all… It would be for sometime that we remained ungrateful, and obtuse of his sacrifice. Unworthy of his brilliance…"

Hermione could visibly notice Harry's affected stance at the mentioned of his name and the denotation of their professor's sacrifice. She could see that he was mentally transported to the boathouse at the time they found Snape holding on to life long enough for him to hand his tears for the memory.

"And ignorant of his love…"

Harry's harrowing intake of breath had Hermione considered the thought of stepping closer to him for support but stopped from doing so as she caught him send a nod across them. She deduced that Harry's acknowledgment was directed at the Headmistress, and its significance that an unspoken understanding between the two is in place. In some way, it brought her comfort that her best friend had accepted a kind of caring that he usually denies himself. Her heart thumps in another meaning at the comprehension...

"Severus Snape had played his role with perfection, for had he not; we would not be standing in the light today… Less than a truer Slytherin could not accomplish such. Less than a _**brave**_ Slytherin would never take on the mission."

There. A long-standing Head of Gryffindor, the house of the brave, had given reverence to such courage, displayed by no other than the recent-past Head of Slytherin— their 'rival' house.

"Severus…"

At the long pause and slight wavering of the usually rich voice, Hermione could not help but raised her eyes in curiosity and automatic concern towards the woman, who imperceptibly gathered her renowned self-control before she continued with her words.

"…Severus, I never understood your habit of prattling your chess strategies after a match. I found it rather hilarious that you'd insist to make a play-by-play rationale of all your moves particularly the _rare times_ you beat me. And we would have our repeated question and answer... I, would ask— _**'Whatever for Severus, the game is done?'**_ And you, would answer— _**'The game perhaps, but not our match, and you must never doubt Minerva.'**_

There was another pause, and Hermione caught a well-concealed sigh from a woman who is making a rare act of personal disclosure to the public.

"I only caught on your meaning, and for that I am sorry... Surely I will miss our chess games."

Then in a blink, the control is back. But not before Hermione caught a twitch of the woman's mouth in an apparent amusement. Hermione thought she saw fondness, a deep sense of friendly attachment for the dead professor. A sure wonder as the two Heads always appeared before the students in constant clash.

"Here's to your peace, **my** friend." She saluted while conjuring a delicate flower-plant on top of Severus Snape's mount. It was decorated with intricate trimmings of Hogwarts colors but with dominant Slytherin's green.

"Peace Lily plant." Harry remarked.

The hairs at Hermione's nape rose as Harry's breathless utterance cut across the restrains. She saw a couple of those in attendance let go of tears, perhaps sensitive to the underlining significance of the plant, or perhaps the depth of the Headmistress words and poignant actions had finally flooded their heavy emotions.

In the overwhelming silence that ensues, Hermione stepped forward and reached to one of Harry's hands to remind him that she and Ron are just standing behind him. When he gave her a reassuring squeeze, she let go of their clasped hands but stayed physically close to him. Harry then had decided to lean on her for a literal solicitation of comfort. Ron also followed suit and stepped nearer to them. Hermione's one hand reached to Ron and send him comfort as well. She knows Ron and understood how he is hating himself for the severe prejudice he had with their dead Professor. The result of their physical action had them unreservedly close; an illustrative of their treasured friendship.

Unguardedly, she found herself raising her eyes to the Headmistress, who is intently looking back at the three of them, from few feet across. After a long moment, Minerva McGonagall gave a fervent nod to Harry, which he returned, again communicating an understanding.

Then the woman turned, took several steps away and disapparated, but not before she moved her wand over the leaves on the ground, raised them high above and transfigured them into lilies and softly let them fall around them. The touching gesture caused several gasps of surprise and altered the somber faces into chuckling ones. Harry turned to Hermione with an open grin pasted at his face.

"Professor Snape would be cursing right now at the drama." Harry whispered to her and Ron in light jest and she finally let out a small smile, more from the relief that her best friend is doing better than she'd expect from him, considering where they are exactly. She wordlessly asked if he is ready to leave and Harry responded by linking their arms, so she moved purposely to steer themselves away from the crowd to disapparrate.

She knows that Harry has opted to stay at the Weasleys until he could fix Grimmauld or look for a house at Godric's hollow. She too has an open invitation at the Burrow, but declined and reasoned that she needed to do something and will visit another day. The truth is, she has every intention of going back into doing nothing but stare at her old bedroom's ceiling. She simply wants to be away from any prying eyes – no matter how genuinely concern they are. She is too unsettled and would need more time to sort things out.

"Are you okay Harry with…" she asked while gesturing to the interred professor they walked away from. She is itching to leave but delays her takeoff until she is sure that the grin she had seen on her best friend's face is somewhat candid, or at least not so much of a forced one, if the latter is the case.

"Yes Mione. Minerva had—"

Before Harry could finish his answer, and before Hermione could comment on Harry's casual use of the Headmistress' first name, the new Minister, Kingsley Shacklebolt had reached them; effectively cut their conversation.

Hermione groaned silently when she figured out what he wants from them. He reminded them of the ceremony to occur in the afternoon at the Hogwarts ground. It is said to symbolically turn the 'Ending and Beginning' chapters for their Wizarding World. Hermione was deciding how best to dismiss the Minister when he heard his bargain.

"This is the only one I would subject you three to attend. After this, you can ignore all Ministry functions whenever you like... For as long as you like... Even if later on you'd work at the Ministry and until I am serving as the Minister, you have my permission to be absent to all events. But please, NOT for this afternoon's. That's how much I want you three for this ceremony."

While Kingsley understood that they are more deserving of a break, he is making them consider the merit of having the 'Golden Trio' at the ceremony to bring home an important message for the rest of them. That message is about— _'going forward together'_. And Hermione has got to give it to the Minister for employing honesty; he told them that he knows that he cannot do anything if they refuse, as he has no right to ask for more from any of them.

He is even smart to mention to them that although these things may come as artificial; he is most willing to try anything that could possibly help propel what has left of their world to the next chapter. He talked without sugarcoating and Hermione could see his words working into both of her best friends' consciousness. If the situation was different, she might remark to the older wizard of how Ravenclaw he is with his well-placed premises.

"The Headmistress said she'll deal with you… with it.. if we don't show up. " Harry managed to sound daring and modest at the same time with his retort; obviously aware that they are now conversing with the official Minister of the British Wizard Community and not just any associate, regardless that they had worked with the man in the Order... regardless that he was the boy who lived and ultimately finished Voldemort.

"I know." sighed Kingsley unsurprised. "When the owls we sent yesterday still brought no response from any of you, I went to the Headmistress before breakfast today hoping to tap her influence on you. She lectured me about unjustly burdening you for more partaking, 'official' or 'non-official' ones. Staunchly supported your trio's non-response but she also—" Kingsley paused, seemingly reconsidering his words.

Harry nonplussed had subconsciously scratched his scar at the suspension, while Hermione just raised an eyebrow questioningly. Immediately her fast mind had worked out that the Minister is weighing the consequence of repeating Minerva McGonagall's words to them, apparently without the woman's _permission_.

"But what Minister?" Ron posed somewhat impatiently.

Hermione could see Kingsley's internal debate; hesitant of a likely annoyance from the witch he intends to slightly betray in order to make them say yes. After a few more moments, the Minister broke his self-deliberation, and made use of Minerva McGonagall's _**influence**_ on them, on the 'Golden Trio'.

"The Headmistress said you'll be there nonetheless. She said, ' _Kingsley, much to their utmost dismay, they'll be there'_ — that's an exact quote actually after I expressed my exasperation on your non-answer."

A silence ensues the Minister's citation until Ron again broke through it with a question to Harry. "Huh, did you commit to the Headmistress? I thought she said she didn't whatsoever?"

"I didn't Ron. And I told you, I did not even have to explain. I did not have to defend our _**'** **no commitmen**_ ** _t'_** for this ceremony. She told me she completely understands and she promised to answer for us if we don't show up. Actually, she said— anyone unwisely questions our non-attendance would find themselves thrown out of Hogwarts."

Kingsley chuckled a bit and confirmed to them, "Indeed, the Headmistress had given me such 'stern warning' this morning not to be an imbecile. She even remarked that if Ms. Granger does not send dragon dung to any questioning idiot, a McGonagall would."

The amusement is evident on both Harry and Ron's faces at the thought of the Minister being told off by no less than the Headmistress, plus the older woman's wicked sense of humor, which somehow they could all guess that the threat is half true. Hermione on the other hand ignored the reference to her but frowned in contemplation about the witch's open support of their rejection and yet conflicting assurance of their assent...

Then there is the fact that Harry talked to her last night. ' _What did they talk about? Is that why Harry is calling her Minerva?'_

Hermione could hear Kingsley saying that the Headmistress did not even mentioned this morning that she talked to Harry last night. "Obviously more supportive of your decision than my objective" Kingsley said in an almost complaining tone. "But I did ask why she thinks or rather seems so sure that eventually the three of you would be at Hogwarts this afternoon. Well, she simply said, ' _Kingsley, much to their utmost dismay, they'll be there because_ —" Kingsley paused again and actually looked at her intently.

"—Because we are _bloody_ Gryffindors." Hermione's voice cut through before the minister could resume to his sentence. She repeated with the complete pronouncement. **"** _ **Kingsley, much to their utmost dismay, they'll be there because they are bloody Gryffindors."**_

"Precisely!" exclaimed Kingsley. "Well, minus the word _bloody_. Although I would wager my Gringgotts account that it was a last second word cancellation by the Headmistress." The Minister laughingly narrated and thoroughly amused with it.

This time, her two best friends openly laughed at the Minister's quip. An image of the witch entered her mind doing exactly as guesstimated by Kingsley... The woman suspended the word 'bloody' at the last instant to not blemish Gryffindors to a Ravenclaw... Hermione slightly shook her head to expel the picture of Minerva McGonagall, and expelled as well the appearing smile at her lips.

When she looked up at Kingsley, she could read the amusement in his eyes while he watched their reactions, particularly hers. An amusement that turned quickly into a thoughtful look, as they fixed on her and heard him questioned, "Was the Headmistress accurate Hermione?"

"Mione ifyoudontwanttodoit lets not." Harry stammered in his haste, which is a good thing, as Hermione was about to let out a frustrating sigh at the older wizard, who is not only losing his bid to gain their assent but also brewing agitation. Harry touched her arm gently and drawn her to him. "I mean, Ron and I don't want to do it if you tell us that you rather not— if you are not up for— you know, the role playing."

Hermione had picked Harry's message; they are truly going to proceed however she wants them to. She feels appreciative at their thoughtfulness, and at the same time burdensome— of again having to make a decision affecting them three. Unthinkingly she pinched the bridge of her nose at the predicament, and again caught Kingsley's same thoughtful look at her. She was about to ask the wizard of it when Harry stole her full attention with his next words.

"I told Minerva that just like we've always done; we only do it if you say so."

She almost flinched at the implication. This furthers her conflicting inclination to take the easy road. She had enough of altruism lately, and her Gryffindor reservoir seemed to be depleted at the moment.

Does she care about the magical community at this point in her life? Of course she does. However, for the first time since she found out that she belongs in it, the answer is not a resounding yes. It is not because she detests it, perhaps just the feeling of wanting to detach a little and it is nothing permanent. She is just... she's tired. Too tired.

But as always, her mind won't let her be. It told her that she isn't the only one who is tired. Loads of people are also tired. Harry is more tired than her truthfully. Then there is the Headmistress who is perhaps more tired than any of them and the woman keeps moving, gluing them together – what was she said earlier at the eulogy, 'the cluttered bricks of their world'. She probably didn't pause to think about attending a damn ceremony; she is front and center wiring back the community.

_'But I am no Minerva McGonagall!'_ The other side of her mind pushed the argument. _'Would my absence an illustrative of my inadequacy? And would I drag Ron and Harry with me? And what would Minerva think of them…of her! Dammit.'_

"Mione..." Harry took hold one of her hand in his, seemed to deduce the direction of her thoughts. "Not only Minerva gets it, her own words were— _you must not break your tradition!_ I can tell that somehow she knows that following the troll incident in our first year, well... you have been the one calling the right shots."

"Harry, no... I..." Hermione began to protest but Harry pressed forward.

"You have... And when we don't listen, it was always a disaster." Harry then grinned and teased her, "Oh, you can't really deny how you would insist that we listen to you! Ron and I lost count of how much you've ordered us to this and to do that! And I promise that it's not a bad thing."

"I just wanted you to do your homework... and not get killed..." She let out a small smile as urged by Harry's teasing, "or worse, expelled..."

"Exactly." Harry laughed then shifted into a more serious tone before he continued, "That's why and how the three of us are still here, alive, and breathing... And I agree with Minerva that we must not change it."

"It's true Mione." Ron supplemented, as he too reached her other hand free of Harry's grasp. "You do know that Harry and I would have been killed in first year without you." After a moment, unsurprisingly, he added with a smirk as he teased her, "Now, saving us from going insane from being so bossy with out study schedule is another thing!"

She threw a faint punch at Ron's arm in a protest, but the offence was carried with a grin to match the ones already adorning her two best friends' faces. She understood that they are making her feel less burdensome and conveying that she must not worry about how it would appear, that it matters little whichever she decides; they will own the decision together.

Honestly, she is far from willing to play more of their Golden Trio roles. However, as she runs the matter deeply in her brain and looks at Harry again, in his face etched the conflicting feelings about wanting her to say no and at the same time say yes. He does seem to have guessed her want to be as far away from all of these. But on the other hand, damn him for his ever-present gallant nature. Ever true, he will answer the call of the Wizarding world even if it means playing 'the boy who lived' once again.

She turned to Ron and she could see his transparent support; evidently he and Harry already had a discussion behind her back regarding this predicament, and agreed to let it play-out however she wants.

She shifted her gaze to Kingsley, the Minister is watching her closely; he is sporting that look again. Hermione trampled down the rising panic inside her and pulled back her focus on how to deal with what is being asked from them— a Golden Trio portrayal, for an afternoon's show.

Screaming.

Hermione feels like screaming. To yell at the top of her lungs to be left alone with her misery. But her fucking Golden Brain would not let her ignore Kingsley's and his rational pleading. No matter how gripping it is to just abandon decency. It would not let her neglect the world she was introduced that one afternoon at age 11. A world that literally opened to her by an impressive woman with impossible emerald eyes that brought her Hogwarts letter. That world…this world where she, Harry, Ron, and that witch...irrevocably belong to.

_'Was the Headmistress accurate Hermione?'_ Kingsley's bloody question rang inside her head involuntarily.

And bloody hell, there is no escaping the bloody precision from the bloody witch! It seems to not matter that donning the 'Golden Trio' right now feels similar to skinning themselves alive with bare teeth– _**they would bloody do it**_. Because they are bloody Gryffindors! Eventually, Hermione nod once at Harry and her best friend communicated their accord to the Minister.

"Thank you and I'll see you all later." Kingsley breathed out his appreciation, and immediately left them.

The three of them resumed to their previous direction towards departure. Harry and Hermione were steps behind Ron who went ahead to disapparate after a wave of goodbye and a 'See you later at Hogwarts' to Hermione. Before Harry could disapparate as well, Hermione stopped him momentarily for a follow-up.

"You have not answered my earlier question Harry" referring to how he is holding with Snape's funeral.

"Yes I did. I told you I'm okay." Harry let out a smirk as he answered with just minor obfuscation.

"Okay smart ass," grinning back at Harry. "Pardon my imprecision; you know you were saying that…" Hermione suddenly faltered with how to proceed, effectively vanished the grin at the thoughts coursing in her.

While she is concern how Harry is really faring given that they have just laid Severus Snape, she highly doubted that she wants to start a topic she knows she could not afford to bring on the table, let alone talk about, even to Harry who is obviously giving her a retreat door. So she re-addressed, "Okay Harry. I'll see you later then."

Harry did not miss her re-direction. He understood that she had taken his offered temporary flight. Quite correctly, she knows that he had guessed that she had not truly come to terms about it herself. His best friend does know that she'll bring it up when she is ready and not by accidental blunder.

"Mione, are you sure you could do later? She blinked at the question and sees his anxious face. She knew he is now referring to her, their— _'Golden Trio'_ reprisal for the afternoon's ceremony.

"Mione, are you sure you could do later? A little louder this time, Harry repeated his question as he thought that she had missed it. "Minerva can… well, we really do have a ticket out, you know." He added peering his olive eyes to her brown ones.

She caught his change of sentence construction but decided to ignore it. "I know Harry, but we are Gryffindors." she addressed the matter in an obvious concluding manner.

"Yeah, and I know how much more Gryffindor you are than any Gryffindors right now."

"No. Not more than you Harry or others who are—"

"No, Hermione. NO."

At Harry's passionate objection, she shuts up. For a moment, both of them seemingly at loss on how to proceed and before Hermione could backtrack on what they were discussing about, Harry once again took her hand, and held her gaze, obviously conveying that what he wants to tell her is of utmost gravity. Suddenly, Hermione felt the desire to end whatever discussion they are having, but Harry decided otherwise.

"People assumed that Godric Gryffindor meant courage is only about having the heart to go for one's desires at all cost. We both know, he equally meant 'your kind' of courage that—"

"Harry—"

"Godric Gryffindor knew **YOUR** kind of courage... That in the name of duty and honor, courage is the fortitude to shelf in the wants of one's heart. **Sometimes, and ironically, even in the name of love**."

To say that Hermione was startled into silence not only by Harry's perceptiveness, but his unusual disposition to voice them out eloquently is an understatement. Her heart stops at the very close-to-home narrative. Harry's words were spoken with gentleness but with strong conviction that they rattled Hermione much more that she was prepared...

The declaration spoke volumes of how much Harry had grasped the ongoing turmoil in her heart. Unable and not ready to respond to it but sincerely grateful for his apparent concern, Hermione closed the little distance between them and gave her best friend a brief but a tight embrace, kissed his cheek and mumbled 'I'll see you later at Hogwarts'.

She stepped away from him and apparrated back at her parents' old house in London; seeking refuge for at least few hours in her old bed– before putting on the "Golden Brain" title role once again.

* * *

**End of Chapter 1 | Severus Snape Laid To Rest**


	2. The 'New Beginning' Ceremony at Hogwarts

**Year 1998 | 1st Seventh of May**

Afternoon 

* * *

_She stepped away from him and apparrated back at her parents' old house in London; seeking refuge for at least few hours in her old bed– before putting on the "Golden Brain" title role once again._

* * *

Playing the role she crossly consented, Hermione Granger found herself watching the late afternoon sky above the fabled Hogwarts Castle that is now in ruins. Vaguely, she could hear Kingsley Shacklebolt making a speech about worthiness of life and death... and the in-between... and indubitably confronting it today... and in the days to follow... in thousands different ways.

Yes, thousands of more or less wrestling with rage, guilt, shame, desolation, sorrow, anguish, exhaustion…the entirety almost let a grunt out of Hermione at the absurdity of the thousands suppositions... But frankly at the moment, it really seems just one black hole within her— sucking her in a massive desire to just run away... and escape…

But right now, unforgivingly, escape is beyond her grasp, for a little bit more.

Hermione arrived at Hogwarts almost at the last second before the ceremony began, and purposely eliminated any opening for conversation with anybody. Certainly she is in no mood for pleasantries or platitudes. In fact, she immediately sought Harry, Ron and Kingsley to make a dutiful appearance to 'prove' that she had held her part.

Like her, the boys were gunning for a slightly obscure area to stay or at least blend in the background until they could leave. However, their disinclination on the whole 'Golden Trio' reprisal had aggravated even more when they were requested (more like instructed) to literally stand side by side like a diorama during the ceremony proper. They are to provide an illustration of this afternoon's message— _Embarking together as one into new beginning_.

Nearing the end of her temper but not wanting to make a scene, Hermione gritted her teeth as she caught Harry's face. The increased worry lines on his forehead made her hold back the numerous curses wanting to break out from her lips.

"What is so difficult to just stand over there for you three?"

An idiotic organiser thoughtlessly and stupidly asked and Hermione wrapped her hands around herself tighter to not reach for her wand and hex the idiot as again she caught Harry's olive eyes and the guilt in them seemed to surface at ten-fold. She really does not want to pass more to him, not after everything. So her low strained voice cut the argument, "Lets just get this done soonest" and then allowed to be lead to where they were supposed to be.

When another idiotic person attempted to get them to give a speech, she vehemently shook her head. And yet the idiot aggressively pushed it. Hermione found herself uncapping the hold on her temper when she heard Harry ominously said, "The three of us will walk away right now if you insist."

With that, even Kingsley strode to them and asked the Ministry employee to leave it be.

Hermione could feel most eyes turning to the three of them and deduced that Kingsley had reached the part of his speech about them. She nearly slip-up with physical recoil upon tuning in and catching him account three friends partaking in the fight for life, freedom and essence of true magic. Not that she finds the Minister being untruthful; it was indeed about friends, life, freedom and magic. But so as other's involvement whose names weren't Harry, Ron and Hermione. Of course her brain can read the need for inspiration to rally forward, is just that the dramatization is enough to make her puke today's breakfast and lunch she neither had.

As Kingsley continues with his commendation of their roles in the war, Hermione almost let out a humorless laugh at the opposing physical reactions of her best friends. At her right side, she can feel an intensified stiffening tension from Harry, a total contrast to Ron's further dropping at her left side. Perhaps out of habit of looking out for her best friends regardless of one's wretchedness, very imperceptibly Hermione uttered under her breath the word "almost".

She knew that both would catch her mumbling and understand that their sore condition and the absurdity of it all will be over very soon.

Furthermore, she knew that letting them know that they are together in it would strangely comfort them. The shared feeling is a comforting and yet a disturbing indication of their present state. But it did demonstrate how connected they have become as a bloody trio.

When Kingsley made reference to "Brains of the Trio", Hermione cemented her stare ahead, and affixed a thicker blanket of nothingness on her face, even with a swirling suffocation encasing her. She noticed again the clear bright sky bearing down on them, and it fuelled the sense of inanity... Madness of having to stand on this ground under such amiable weather for a ceremony of "New Beginning" into a lighter world, when barely five days ago, darkness had come on the same ground, ending lives in a battle that at that time seemed to last for eternity.

For every passing second, it was snapping at her almost empty reserve of self-restrain, lashing at her to find an escape. To take the flight.. To what?.. To where?.. Or to whom?...

 _'No, don't… don't go there, people are watching you. Do not be caught of your misery, as it will lead to questions you cannot answer._ '

Hermione rebuked herself and forced herself to endure for more. She kept her head away from matters rallying inside her heart as right now is the worst time to let them out.

As soon as the proper ceremony ended and before other people can reach them, Hermione pulled Harry and Ron to her, hugged both and in one breath told them, "I need to go now, I'll see you in few days. I'll be fine."

Ron squeezed one of her hands and Harry gave her a kiss on the cheek; both are sufficient responses from her best friends. The exchange have delivered and accepted the support conveyed amongst the three of them, a profound testament of their friendship.

Harry and Ron let go of Hermione and tactically shielded her away from the incoming family and friends, from hugs and greetings, and from the generally view of other people. Hermione knew that Ginny would be the first to reach them. Without looking back, she could picture Ginny embracing Harry and Ron and would try to reach for her too. Then somehow she heard Harry, "Hermione needs to go. Don't follow Gin." Hermione still did not look back and did not stop. But she could tell that the conveyed message was understood instantly by Ginny. Hermione would even guess how Ginny would shift to a spot to deliberately add to cover her departure.

Hermione with her head slightly down, headed towards the direction of the Hogwarts gate with a steady pace, making her movement soundless to not draw attention to her leaving. Only when she arrived at a far, far clearing where no one is around, that she lifted her head, and decided that it was safe to take one look at what she just left.

Blurrily she saw her two best friends surrounded by a lot of people but obviously closely screened out by the red-hair Weasleys. Their human wall for Ron and Harry from the rest of the crowd was unmistakable, but even with that, she felt relief to be absent there. And from the lack of any friends pursuing her, she appreciated Harry and Ron's managing to keep everyone's notice away from her exit.

Hermione shifted her gaze from the direction of her friends, to the reason of who had actually made her postponed her departure. The reason for stalling her leaving is not because she sought to make a final check on her friends. The truth is, in the throngs of witches and wizards, there is someone— someone she wants to take an unguarded look, to stash a bountiful image, and hoard them in her head before her flight.

Even in such distance, Hermione could not contain her astonishment at the gracious, diplomatic and yet commanding stance and gestures coming from the very subject of her attention. What's more bewildering are the invisible walls that kept everyone out. It seemed that the Wizarding of Britain is all too accustomed of this individual's heavy disposition on privacy and the erected parapets. On more than one occasion, she heard the anecdote that one has easier time breaking out of Azkaban than breach the protective walls of this person... And so not for the first time, she wondered if she will ever be so lucky to discover a thoroughly stripped down version of such character.

' _Alright, I have enough of you to feed my mind and last me for sometime.'_ Hermione thought, and intent to now really leave, she sighed, but then, the very subject of her observation had lifted a pair of emerald eyes towards her direction.

And then locked with hers for a moment.

Without question, Hermione was unprepared for the unexpected directness— particularly the lack of impregnable blockades usually employed in those eyes...

Despite the physical distance, and despite of how it was all too brief, Hermione was positive that for a moment, when they made contact with hers, those impossible green eyes were free of any barriers… She would know.

For years, perhaps more of the last two years before they left Hogwarts for Harry's quest, Hermione would watch those green eyes fortify the shield to hold everyone out. At first, her curiosity was by-product of her admiration for such formidable character. Then it migrated into intrigue, probing if anyone had been given a free pass to these walls. But all the observations lead her to a discovery of the variations… different styles for different people… but the walls are always present.

Except few seconds ago.

In that abrupt moment, those emerald eyes had fixed at hers— uncovered. Absolutely naked.

Hermione is regrettably ill equipped to fully receive the effects from those eyes. They were grave, they were pleading, and they were pained. They were also worried and a lot more she knew that were there, of which she had failed to discern. They were all too brief and far too much, especially for a normally unreadable eyes.

Alas, before Hermione's own eyes could communicate to question, walls had come up. Then emeralds wholly withdrawn, and re-directed to the Minister who is amongst the small circle of wizards and witches they are in.

Hermione watched a little more of the magnificent owner of such brilliant emerald eyes, and again marveled at the powerful way people were drawn to this person and be equally held back. Always the same, you are welcomed to draw near but never be given entry. The walls are too unconquerable.

' _Didn't they say that women with the highest walls have the deepest love?_ _'_ The arbitrary thought caused an unexpected shudder to pass through Hermione.

"You need to leave now," she mumbled, and berated herself for the gamble for still staying. "Do you want to expose yourself for all Britain's wizards and witches to bear witness?"

The agitation that passed over at the thought of being the laughing stock propelled her to finally exit. When she reached the apparating spot outside Hogwarts, she had convinced herself that somehow she had not completely lost her mind. For the most part, she could still make a sound decision to run away and save herself from humiliation.

An absolute humiliation if anyone finds out the swirling emotions within her soul.

A guaranteed humiliation if anyone could read the longing harboring in her heart.

A longing invoked singularly by the owner of those emerald eyes, the most venerated witch without a doubt— a witch named Minerva McGonagall.

* * *

 **End of Chapter 2 |** **Year 1998 | The 'New Beginning' Ceremony at Hogwarts**

* * *

_Who else would own such emerald eyes?_


	3. Isolation and Desolation

**Year 1998 | 1st Seventh of May**

**Later that afternoon**

* * *

Running from Hogwarts brought her back to their old house in London. The last two hours or so were spent sprawled in bed, staring at the ceiling doing nothing but torturing herself with the most overbearing weight that had settled within her soul. The silence of the house is only amplifying the truth and demanding for a confrontation, and Hermione is powerless to bury it any longer—

She loves Minerva.

She wants Minerva.

She needs Minerva.

and She CAN'T HAVE MINERVA.

Fucking hell, the woman is NOT for anyone's fucking taking.

"Falling in love with Minerva McGonagall! How fucking stupid Hermione!" As loud as she could, Hermione angrily shouted at no one with venom she didn't realize she possessed. She ran her hands over her face for the nth time with such force that again had left slight red marks on her pale skin and she could not care about the assault unto oneself.

"MC-GO-NA-GALL! Of all the witches in this bloody magical world! BRIGHTEST witch of your age and you did not see the madness of wanting the unattainable." She told herself in repulsion, and pounded the bed with both of her fist with her self-scolding.

"How did you let this happen?" She demanded. "It's the bloody war's fault. Bloody war!" And she insisted to find something to blame for. "It was simple and it was contained, and I was content with the order of things." She screamed in frustration.

Confusingly, the labyrinth it had become was far from linear that Hermione was used to before the war. She was a young muggle-born witch trying to show that she does indeed belong in the wizarding world just as the next witch at Hogwarts. And Minerva McGonagall for her was a figure of authority, and a mentor— both well defined roles as far she knew.

In the early weeks when she arrived at Hogwarts as first year, it was easy for her to single-out their head of house as someone whose devotion ran beyond her Transfiguration subject. Even those belonging in other houses were vocal of how Professor Minerva McGonagall is a disciplinarian through and through. But at the same time, there is a consensus that the woman is probably the most welcoming professor to any students who are wise (and perhaps brave) to come for advance lessons. And since Hermione was devoted to nothing else but becoming a better witch, giving her education an utmost importance, it was crystal clear at onset how she would seek the opportunity that actually made her a perfect protege. No one would say otherwise, not withstanding the predicaments she got involved with, a by-product of being friends with one Harry Potter.

Via the same educational goals, Hermione was granted a time-turner during her third year, which paved way for a friendly rapport with the older woman. But still, it was strictly the official kind as the professor guided her with the rigorous class schedule and the extra interactions afforded her to literally have more time spent with the strict Minerva McGonagall. But all of them were about helping her to unleash her potential, her magic.

In their fourth year, when her friends as well as the rest of the students in her year appeared to have shifted their attention from childish antics to courtship and dating, Hermione felt she was back in first year in those first few awful weeks before the troll incident. Again, she was feeling out of place and seemed far behind with everybody else in everything not related to assignments and examinations. So when the Yule ball brought trivialities, she gritted her teeth and yielded to give a piece of attention to such. She even accepted Victor Krum's request to be his date when all she wanted to do was to make sure that Harry will be prepared for the trials, or at least not get killed.

For a while, it pretty much set an impression to small-minded students that her case was not the absence of interest, but of her just being too 'finicky.' She was too pleased to be left alone regarding the aspect of her dating and yet not feel alienated amongst her peers that she let such inaccurate notion about her ran along as much as it could.

But that did not sustain, as she never encouraged Viktor for more than anything but friendship, so she needed another obfuscation. She then scrambled to appear that her lack of romantic involvement with the opposite gender could be explained with her lack of time for anything else other than for studying. That was not a difficult sell considering her brainy reputation. Predictably, it did not made her 'Ms. Popular' and did little to gain herself more friends, but as always, she is comfortable with handfuls. More importantly, she is far content to be best friends with Harry and Ron. And both boys never bother her about her lack of dating life, although presumably they were also convinced that she is too studious for 'normal teenage' antics.

'Too finicky' and 'too studious', two unrelated things helped her get excluded from most gossip related to romantic attachment amongst the student body and she allowed it thoroughly. But privately she could feel something's amiss and the feeling got more pronounced when she got in fifth year. Despite being in their OWLS year, Hermione with her much advanced revisions, she could and did complete the professors' tasks and homework easily and overly fast, which gave her vacuum for rumination. Again and again, she would find herself circling around a harrowing suspicion about herself. But every time she would arrived at a certain brink, she would dismiss it in the same way she dismisses Professor Trelawney's predictions.

However, there were nights that she cannot stop the self-interrogation; some questions she rather not answer would break out... Why she has zero interest to have Victor as a boyfriend? She knew that most girls are lobbying for that kind of opportunity to date him, but she could not make herself care about it. She was willing to be friends with him as it never hurt to have another, but clearly Victor wanted more and she wanted no more than friendship.

Another question- Why she felt no inclination to give back Ron's obvious 'crush' to her? _O_ f course her mind had caught Mrs. Weasleys delight at the notion, including Harry's and Ginny's. Certainly it would be convenient, anyway she likes Ron and loves him too. But the kind of affection she has for him is one has for a brother. The kind that she has for Harry. And she would bet that Ron's 'crush' would eventually go away and sees her as his sister.

And a more honest question- Why she felt no inclination to date at all? Often, she would ask herself if she is simply not cut out for it especially that she cannot see what her fellow female students consider as 'interesting' and 'good looking' boys. She would ask herself if she lacks some sort of senses that are related to trigger attraction. Or that she has poor eyesight for failing to notice certain 'boys'.

To these questions, Hermione did not want to accept that something was wrong with her. She kept pushing her uncompromising stance on her academic goals as valid explanations. Her single-mindedness to learn and learn is what she would employ for the absence of attraction to both boys, or to anyone... But then, deep inside her a scream of how that was not entirely accurate would burst... that there is someone she considers attractive…

A professor… who is a woman… a well-known stern witch... who is a couple of decades her senior... whose name is Minerva McGonagall!

These are things that Hermione's mind would dig deeper for acceptable explanations. She would test her logic to make sense of it. She thought of how in her second year she had a 'crush' on Professor Lockhart? Ron and Harry thought that her admiration for the professor was something to do with his looks, as that is the prevalent reason why he was popular. But Hermione actually never saw the professor's 'good looks'. She admired Lockhart because of his _'achievements'_ that she had read from what he had written in his books. Of course that was before her own eyes condensed him to a dreadful wizard that he is. When his fabrication came into the surface, she was aghast that she ever admired him. She even berated the books she had read about him for the deception.

So with a bit of satisfaction, she would conclude that her admiration for her Transfiguration Professor is nothing more than an extension of her passion on education. That naturally, who would draw her fascination is someone she admires most and inspires her to do her best. ( _Even though she failed to consider that unlike Lockhart, she would work_ _ **double hard**_ _in her transfiguration subject not just to have high marks, but also for a prospect of making the stern Professor McGonagall smile in approval for her excellent work.)_ But that is just that; her desires to get approval from someone venerable like Minerva McGonagall. And it can't be anything else.

**Then the war came.**

**And cut all her bullshit.**

During their quest to find the horcruxes, their days and nights were filled with danger and being on the list of undesirable made them constantly high on alert. But the ever-present threat of not being alive the next day drove Hermione to an ultimate confrontation regarding her life… her muggle world… her wizarding world… her best friends… her family… her heart.

With their world plunged into darkness; mortal peril is in non-hyperbole characterization, Hermione lost her proficiency at managing the unacknowledged fact about herself... She had to come out to herself... And then she had to confess to herself of what she harbors in her heart... that she is in love with one witch— in love with Minerva McGonagall.

Following the admittance, there were isolation, vulnerability, fear, neglect, hunger, confusion, uncertainty, and longing— these all carried Hermione to wrestle a promise out of oneself. A promise that if she survives the war, she will regard her heart's desire with full reverence no matter what.

Humorless laugh escaped from Hermione on how simple she thought things would be; to promise something so far-fetched was too easy… easy when one is not certain to live to carry the promise.

When Hermione angrily ran her hands over her face again, she was startled at the dampness, momentarily panicked that anyone would see her brokenness before she was reminded that she had locked herself in her old room at their house in London, and absolutely away from condemnation. Not for the first time the last couple of days that she'd find tears pouring out from her eyes with unaware wrecked sobs. Strangely, this time, it triggered a rage in her for what she is allowing herself to be— a feeble, and immature person.

"Cut your loses Hermione and move on" she scolded herself.

The empty house is suddenly too suffocating for her self-isolation. She needs to do something. She needs to shut this matter at once.

"Like ripping a haphazard placed plaster on an untreated wound." She told herself of the only approach she knows that is strong enough to shake her out of desolation.

She apparated to Hogwarts.

* * *

**End of Chapter 3 | Year 1998 | Isolation and Desolation**


	4. Ripping the plaster

**Year 1998 | 1st Seventh of May**

**Almost nighttime**

* * *

Hermione dropped just outside of Hogwarts on shaky legs from her less than faultless apparition. Considering her state of distraction, it was almost a miracle how she did not splinch. She proceeded to the imposing gates with unsteady gait and heavy breathing.

As she drew closer, she noted that the daunting gates have been restored to a more resemblance of its old fixture, one she probably failed to notice when she exited them several hours ago. Unsurprisingly, charms were already in placed, which required Hermione to cast more than a simple _alohomora_ to gain entry; they were also laced with a guarding spell that she needed to break down. By the time the heavy steel unfastened to let her in, sweat is trickling down her back, and quite suddenly a sense of utter exhaustion is descending on her. But she trudged ahead.

Instinctively her feet had carried her further into the ruined castle towards the training ground. Her movements have become slower, partly from an almost empty tank of energy, and partly due to many fallen obstructions. Fallen stone works and other wreckage she had to clear with magic; something she should not be spending in her fatigue. Despite the irrationality of it, she is pushing forward with determined steps, as if an unseen force is nagging behind her.

When at last she reached the grounds, she settled approximately in the same area she always sat whenever she would relent to watch Harry and the Gryffindor Quidditch team practice by Ron's dragging. During the early years, she would go in the spirit of friendship but always with a book on hand to past the time. Later on, she would still go in the spirit of friendship especially when Ron had made the team, but without a book anymore, as she found another way to past the time – looking up at Minerva McGonagall's office.

From the ground one could not really see much, particularly during daytime when the sky is devoid of clouds and the sun is blinding any onlooker. Nonetheless, Hermione would routinely send her scrutiny upwards, trying to catch a swish of emerald robes. She likes best watching the practice at nighttime for those have yielded to more occasions wherein Minerva spared few moments to observe the Gryffindor team from her window.

Once while watching the practice, she beckoned Angelina Johnson to fly up to her window. Later when she asked Harry about it at dinner, he said that Professor McGonagall instructed Angelina to check Katie about her arm if needs bringing to Madam Pomfrey as she noticed an unnatural litheness in her left shoulder. It turned out that Katie had over-soothed a strained muscle due to an excessive application of soothing balm. That prompted Ron to remark, _'blimey if she could spot that more than 50 feet in distance, no wonder she catches every copied homework even if one had done re-phrasing'_. Both her best friends including other Gryffindors seated beside them had a hearty laugh at it. She on the other hand shuddered at the realization that her occasional gawking may have been fully noted by the older witch.

That night she had hard time sleeping, worrying about the implication, and only fell asleep around two in the morning when she convinced herself that the _**'occasional'**_ was just handful of times. When she next watched the team's practice, she brought a book and was completely mindful to not look up. Moreover, she started to consciously limiting her staring at the woman especially during Transfiguration class, and _**forced herself**_ to stop looking at the head table in the great hall during mealtimes.

For every one-on-one scheduled lesson with the professor at her office, she would mentally prep herself to strictly focus on the teachings of advanced transfiguration, and **not** on the teacher's superior mind and elegant movements (and captivating emerald eyes). The single-mindedness she would employ on these sessions actually resulted into her much superior learning; a truly impressive accomplishment at her young age. Whenever the professor would tell her so, the mix feelings of gratification and inexplicable aching to be of the same caliber as the teacher would only heightened inside her heart.

' _It doesn't matter now that this all…'_

Unable to finish her thought at the sound coming from her right, she immediately casts a shield charm on her to repel debris. About twenty feet away from her, a segment from a pole from one of the hoops had finally collapsed, producing a sort of an avalanche of rubbles and clouds of dust around her. But as quickly as it arrived, the commotion was gone, leaving the last of the dust faintly falling here and there as Hermione withdrew her charm. As she slowly takes in the ugliness that transpired less than a week ago, her mind plummeted to a grave memory expedition.

Similar to riding a bullet train and looking at the windows, Hermione started seeing myriad of images of her life at Hogwarts in a repeated loop. From the first time she arrived at the school train's platform with Hagrid calling the first years to him… through most of her classes… great hall dining experiences… their discovery of fluffy… her trips to the school hospital wing to visit Harry or Ron or both, or have herself be healed… to their points earned and points lost… to their detentions… to her endless library trips… to their basking mindlessly around the school ground… to their many adventures… and the last time she boarded the train in her sixth year looking at the castle she had come to call home.

Her mind knew it will not be the same but she hoped against hope that somehow it will be okay. But the next time she set foot at Hogwarts, it was the night of the battle. In truth, it seems that for the first time, she is coming to terms to the events with thundering clarity.

# # #

That night when they sneaked into Hogwarts, her chest was pounding not only from the atmosphere that spelled an imminent finality, but also for being in the same place with the witch that plague her mind and heart during their long absence.

One could say that the all-out-war that evening literally started with Minerva's first firing at Severus Snape. Hermione had to struggle with her ardent desire to attach herself to Minerva, and protect the witch with all her might, but it was her ever-logical mind that kept her focused with her own role in this war; help Harry destroy the rest of the horcruxes.

Throughout the entire time they were battling for their lives, Hermione had mantras affixed in her heart that kept fear contained when she lost sight of Minerva. The adrenalin coursing in her is riding with repetitive phrases of, ' _ **Minerva is one of the most powerful witches'**_ _and '_ _ **Minerva is a very proficient witch'**_. Hermione did all that she can to survive the battle by grasping on hope, hope associated with the endurance of one esteemed fighting witch… The witch who had taken the mantle to protect Harry, to defend Hogwarts, and to fight for them; fight for goodness.

Throughout the castle, she had glimpsed of Minerva's potent magic that held darkness from winning. Spells so fast coming from the witch eliminated the advancement of the death eaters, vanishing several into charmed dungeons if she could afford the option to not end their lives. She had seen moving statues and animated objects clashed with the enemy and she was sure that the incantation that brought them to life came from the thin lips of one transfiguration master, no other than Minerva.

At one point she bore witness at the witch's fearlessness in facing Voldemort herself when they all thought that Harry had fallen. In that moment, fear for Minerva engulfed her entire being almost into a paralyzing state. It was the determined blazing emerald eyes that snapped her into action and strike back at the death eaters for an all out finality. They knew about the prophecy and with Harry gone; they knew that Voldemort's dark magic is almost unstoppable.

But there was Minerva McGonagall… steady hand with her wand… taking on the ultimate enemy without a pinch of reservation — **becoming an apparition of what Godric Gryffindor had meant about courage in facing evil**. For Hermione, It was the most terrifying moment; it was the most majestic moment.

As the sun started to rise on them, ultimately pronouncing triumph for the good side after Harry killed Voldemort and most death eaters captured, there is only one thing in Hermione's mind: **Find Minerva.**

Quickly checking Harry and Ron and satisfied with their general state, she set on to track Minerva's whereabouts amidst the rubbles and destructions. When she found the older witch, numerous people were already in queue, all needing something from the woman. Hermione not wanting to add to the pile had kept her distance but kept Minerva in her sight from then on.

During these crucial hours of the aftermath when most are still confounded on how and where to go next, Hermione closely watched Minerva went about the business of carrying on the British wizarding world on her shoulders. She watched Minerva briefly counseled Kingsley on immediate actions for the Ministry to prevent further chaos and rein in control. She watched her organized treatment of injuries and needed transfers with St. Mungos Officials. She watched her instructed the Hogwarts Staff to arrange food distribution and prepare temporary resting quarters for the survivors. She watched her provide comfort to those with dead loved ones. She watched Minerva dealt one concern after the other with **competence of a war veteran**.

Here and there, Hermione would help out, but she would immediately go back within the vicinity of the older witch, irrationally feeling insecure if she could not see the woman.

At one point, Hermione had seen Minerva discarded her robes as they were already in unsalvageable condition. This left her in a simple long sleeved blouse with a vest and paired with slacks, clothing she had underneath the aforementioned robes. The clothes are in less sorry state but still riddled with several slashes, and sullied with dust, debris, dried sweat, and even droplets of blood. The woman's eyeglasses are also nowhere, keeping her face unobstructed but also grimy with an angry gash on her temple, but thankfully had stopped bleeding. And lastly, her customary tight bun is in disarray with most sections of her hair on the loose. Undeniably the woman has the appearance of someone who just came out of a hard fought battle – and won. Hermione could not help but soak in the sight of Minerva— **looking no less than a victorious warrior.**

It was close to 7 hours and almost midday when suddenly the endless concerns opened a gap, leaving Minerva alone for the first time in a semi-secluded corner. Apparently the woman had realized the surprised interval, which for a moment took her quite uncertain. But an observer like Hermione could not miss out the witch's immediate shift in mentally running through a list of matters of import, seemingly deciding which she would attend next.

Hermione continued to watch her longer, weighing if it would be too intrusive to go near the woman at this time. But when the woman licked her dry lips in concentration, Hermione had decided to finally go to her.

"Here." Hermione handed a tumbler that she had earlier gotten hold from the kitchen. She had placed a cooling charm on it, waiting and saving to give it to Minerva. "Its just water." she added at the puzzled and surprised look of the older witch.

"Thank you." The older witch expressed her appreciation and accepted the proffered drink before she took a swig.

When the woman finished it in one go, Hermione only then had grasped that the woman had been in dire need of hydration. She was irritated at herself for not having the forethought. "I'll get you another. Would you like a sandwich or maybe a fruit?" she offered to Minerva.

"No. No need. And I'm not hungry. And again, thank you." Minerva replied as she magically vanished the now empty tumbler. "And you, have you eaten?"

"No, I'm… choosing not to eat. Probably same as you, afraid I wouldn't keep it down." Obvious understanding passed between them of the horror that just ended, and how eating is the last thing their plaguing stomach would accommodate.

Before any of them could say something else, Hermione had ripped a small part of her sweater, which was ruined anyway, and transfigured it into a clean moist cloth. She stepped closer to Minerva and pressed the article into the older woman's left hand, and guided it to tenderly wipe the grim at Minerva's temple, while carefully avoiding the gash.

Truthfully, the younger witch's intimate actions had stunned both of them. Remarkably, neither bolted away upon realization. Hermione though had kept her eyes on the older woman's temple and avoided the emeralds; quite uncertain on how to handle if her brown ones make contact during such close proximity. They also have remained silent, perhaps not wanting or not knowing how to give voice to the unexpected closeness they are currently sharing. It is only when most of the griminess were removed from Minerva's face that she took a half step back and broke the physical contact…and the silence.

"Are your burns superficial? Have you seen Poppy?" asked Minerva, being the first to recover, as she shot a glance at Hermione's singed left shoulder.

"They are." Responded Hermione in a placating manner, as she unconsciously yanked her sleeves. "Poppy is too busy attending to the more serious injuries… I'll try to find for a healing balm later."

What Hermione did not want to add is that the hospital ward was full to the brim that the frenzy is spilling into the outside hallway. It was enough reason for anyone who does not need immediate medical attention to stay away. But then, she could guess that Minerva knew that already, as she had seen her talked earlier with mediwizards from St. Mungo's Hospital.

"Your back is bothering you," remarked Hermione. She ignored once again the surprised expression on Minerva's face, of which was quickly replaced with a look of indifferent dismissal. Needless to say, the woman had been masking the pain from showing that she didn't think it would be noticed by anyone. Hermione would have missed it as well had she not been observing the older witch for the last few hours.

"I know you have not seen Poppy either for the same reason. Not to mention you really didn't have time; everybody had not stopped needing your attention. But I do hope you have it checked out later."

Hermione extended one hand and gingerly placed it near the older woman's hip, employing the gentlest touch to avoid damaging any other unseen injuries. She heard a quiet but unmistakable deep intake of breath from Minerva as she tries to examine the thin, much too thin body in front of her.

"I don't see any bleeding. But how much pain are you in?" Frowns on Hermione's face appeared with her question as she continued to gently examine the older woman.

"Just previous injury acting up, in the light of — recent activities..."

Hermione heard Minerva's explanation in a strained voice. The non-answer answer made her dropped her hand in alarm. Her frown deepened in a rising worry about Minerva's unattended injury; she started searching her brain for any useful information. Unfortunately, the negative elements of internal bleeding and trauma are the ones intruding her mind. Her pulse started to rise with her worrisome thoughts about Minerva.

Then her mental research abruptly halted when she felt Minerva's hand on hers, that tugged for her attention, and intent to take her away from the anxiety. Despite the silly damp cloth they used to clean Minerva's face that the older woman maintained holding, their fingers had automatically interlaced once they connected.

"When Tom's curse threw me, I landed hard on my back. Mercifully, my ribs did not crack, a little swelling, yes. As to the pain, let's say it didn't help that they are the same ones I previously fractured from Umbridge's attack. But it shall be fine."

The unexpected openness by the lengthy description aimed to ease the younger witch's worry. But the effect is proving the opposite; the account is shockingly hurling Hermione into a panic attack. Hermione exactly knew what Minerva was talking about. Without warning, her mind replayed the events with fearsome clarity, first the older memory with Umbridge, then with Voldemort.

Umbridge and her goons attacked Minerva more than a year ago with four stunning spells. That time, Hermione with other students were taking their Astronomy exam when the commotion began. They drew to the windows and witnessed the horrid episode – Minerva McGonagall was hit on her chest and shoulder, and tossed her several feet in the air before landing hard on the ground.

The thundering pounding in Hermione left her uncaring about anything else, but the appeal to jump off the tower in order to get to the unmoving witch on the ground. The arrival of Madame Poppy and other professors who swept Minerva to St. Mungos had stopped her from summoning a broom so she could fly down to the woman; never mind that she fears flying. She could never really remember how she got through the next couple of days until she had learned from the School Medi-witch, after numerous trips of inquiry, that the emerald-eyed witch had finally gained consciousness. When Harry finally told her that he saw Minerva arrived from St. Mungos, she tried her damnest to not cry in relief.

The other one only happened hours ago; the one that involved Voldemort and the most frightening scenario of Hermione's entire life. When Minerva engaged Voldemort in a duel, Hermione's heart almost stopped at the deadly spot the emerald-eyed witch had taken. She knew that the evil lord has no second thought in using the killing curse and it made her insides freezing cold.

"I am alright." Hermione heard Minerva say, but the onslaught of tremor is already coursing through her, pounding her pulse into an overdrive. In her mind, the most horrible sequence had continued in the most horrible ending — of Voldemort disarming Minerva then hitting her with _Avada Kedavra_.

As if the older woman had read the fragmentation inside her head, she felt being drawn closer with their clasped hands. She knew that Minerva's free hand started palming her trembling cheek to calm her down, but she was already crashing down with previously unexpressed fear.

"I'm still alive." said Minerva, firmly but gently to assure Hermione.

"I was so afraid that I would never see you again. That I would die. Or you would die." Hermione could not stop herself from plummeting into a breakdown, finally voicing the terror that grappled her heart for long several months.

"Hush darling, we're both alive," a thick Scottish lilt whispers to her, ensuring.

Terrified that the gathering tears would start to fall, Hermione closed her eyes and kept her head down. She felt Minerva lightly run one hand into her hair, affixing strands behind her ear... The gesture repeated now and then to comfort her, and it did bring her such. She wanted to crush the older woman into her arms but fearful that she might cause aggravation to her injury with an embrace. And more frightened that the far too bold move may be unwelcome; she settled clutching both her hands into one of Minerva's like a life support.

She did not how long they stood that way, she couldn't tell, not when all her senses were tune-in with the fact Minerva hands were tenderly comforting her. She was entirely lost in the moment until she felt Minerva made adjustment to increase the space between them. When she opened her eyes and look at the woman, Minerva's eyes are directed over her shoulders then she heard her say softly, "Hermione, we'll talk more another time."

Hermione understood quickly— Interruption is coming their way. She released her hold on Minerva but neither had move further away for few more seconds, preserving whatever they were sharing for one moment longer. When one of the approaching wizards started addressing Minerva in need of her direction, they smoothly turned in different directions, and effectively dislodged their startling connection as they went about their ways.

Rounding the corner, she almost ran into Harry. She heard him telling her that he had been looking around for her, as he intended to drag her into a sleeping clot and get some overdue rest. She took his offered hand and the two of them started heading to their makeshift sleeping quarters where she found Luna, Neville, Dean and Seamus already asleep. Without asking, Harry told her that Weasleys are in the next quarters.

After just four hours of sleep and another half hour trying to get more, Hermione had given up on it and finally open her eyes. Though dead tired, she was too wired to stay in bed, plus it was approximately five in the afternoon, her body refused to sleep at such hour.

Upon getting up, she was surprised to see herself in clean ivory pajamas, with her shoulder nicely healed of which she could detect traces of burn-healing balm. She knew she attended neither detail before she succumbed into exhaustion. She was a bit puzzled if Harry had taken care of both, perhaps he did as he is also in similar clean set of pajamas.

She tried to recall how they simultaneously got into their mats, almost crawled with weary bodies as they set the sheets next to each other. She remembered him talking to her as they had lain down, which she can only recall in bits and pieces about their room mates taking dreamless potion and how some Weasleys, which included Ron and Ginny have decided to go back to the Burrow tomorrow. Other than those she can't recall more, perhaps her mind was too full to the brim of what she just shared with Minerva, which she carried into unconsciousness. Maybe she had already fallen asleep when Harry decided to take care of their sleeping clothes and her shoulder. At any rate, the caring gestures warmed her heart.

Seeing that everyone was still sleep and not wanting to wake anybody else in the converted sleeping quarters, Hermione quietly got up and transfigured her pajamas into casual clothes. Then she searched for an undamaged bathroom for a quick shower before proceeding to the great hall or what has left of it. She had hoped to catch Minerva there, but the witch was nowhere.

After not finding Minerva at dinner, she began hunting for the older woman without drawing attention to what she was doing. Around 10pm when most had shown up at the great hall for dinner or late dinner, there was still no Minerva. She was about to abandon subtleness and ask for Minerva's whereabouts, but Harry actually beat her to it. Only then they found out that she was at the Ministry to deal with the captured death eaters.

"Why is Professor McGonagall needed to sort that business?"

Hermione heard Harry's question. After observing the said witch maneuvered important things right after the battle, she is not exactly surprised that Minerva would check things outside of Hogwarts, nonetheless she was curious for details.

"You think your Transfiguration Professor who is the presumed Headmistress of Hogwarts should not be involved?" Professor Horace Slughorn asked back.

"Professor, I don't mean she shouldn't; I'm actually interested on the extent of the role of the Headmistress of Hogwarts on these things."

"Her involvement has nothing to do with her being the Headmistress." Professor Pomona Sprout interjected to answer Harry.

The Head of Hufflehuff House tactfully but accurately explained, that with so many victims related with Ministry officials or employees themselves, it is conceivable that lack of restrain for retaliations might occur, given that wounds and loses are much too raw if the matter is mishandled. She need not say that even good grieving people like Arthur Weasley may be tempted to use his influence to fast track revenge, instead of letting justice correctly settles things. Considering that there are quite a number of Ministry employees who are in the same boat as Weasley, it has the potential for an ugly affair.

"Minerva's involvement will provide equilibrium to a delicate situation. Her reputable name and involvement in the war will not be questioned; her good relations with many families will bridge foreseeable disagreements." This time, Professor Filius Flitwick plainly added as a matter of fact.

Of the same night, Hermione heard but unsure of how accurate the information that Minerva was to facilitate an assembly with several magical creatures. The details were hazy but it said that the meeting is to immediately draw reconciliation with those that got involved. Or at the very least, a reinstatement of territories to each group accustomed to their existence.

Hermione is totally lost in comprehension and burning with curiosity but no one seemed more informed. Again, Harry beat her in asking Hagrid about it. Their half-giant friend could not really confirm but told them that he once heard from a giant acquaintance that Minerva McGonagall is one of the few humans who had been welcomed in different kingdoms. He proceeded to tell them more, which isn't much.

"You know, she can at will be a creature outside but her communication and magical powers intact as if still in human form. It needs in dealings with other creatures to enter their world. Obviously that is hard. How you can without a wand or words? But she has no trouble with it I reckon. Also the great professor, who is obviously the would-be-Headmistress, took and passed the magical creature entry test a long time ago. And I have nought idea how one can even qualify to take the test."

For the first part of what Hagrid had described, Hermione could understand. While some may train and successfully transform themselves physically, a complete control of human mind is not straightforwardly carried over. Then there is the direct control of one's magical ability in another form; it is multifaceted in and of itself. Even Harry recognizes that it involves the highest intricacies of magic.

However, for the second part where Hagrid mentioned about a _**test**_ , she could see that Harry is as clueless as her, and as interested to find out more. When they asked Hagrid to explain the test that he mentioned, he could not elaborate further.

The next day, Hermione rose very early in the hope to catch Minerva; once again the woman is nowhere. She found out that indeed Minerva had returned mid-dawn and only to change robes and to attend to extremely urgent Hogwarts matters. Then the witch left the castle before breakfast, before most have awaken for the day, hurrying to address more imperative concerns like aiding Griphook with the full restoration of anti-Transfiguration wards of the Wizarding money at Gringotts.

Arthur Weasley despite in grief for the current loss of Fred– actually managed a small smile at Hermione's look of pure astonishment (plus Harry's and other Weasley kids) at finding out that their _plain Professor in Transfiguratio_ n has always been fundamental in securing the Wizarding Financial Institution. He recalled having the exact reaction, many years ago when he first joined the Ministry and discovered of McGonagall's complex skill, which has always been essential to the Goblins in order to protect the wizard currencies.

That morning, 'The Daily prophet' released a single sheet special publication containing nothing but two announcements.

' **Kingsley Shacklebolt is the interim Prime Minister for Magic until proper election.'**

' **Minerva McGonagall is the Official Headmistress of Hogwarts.'**

Unsurprisingly, there was no comment from the new Headmistress. On the other hand, attached was Kingsley's picture as he was quoted in half jest that **'** _ **I only have the job because McGonagall has chosen Hogwarts over the Ministry**_ **.'**

While Minerva's expedite confirmation as Head of Hogwarts was shocker to no one, Hermione was a little startled at everyone's seemingly murmurs of agreement to Kingsley's remarks. _Did Minerva have the chance to take the headship of the Ministry?_ She wonders why that was somewhat a surprise to her, when apparently to others it wasn't.

Halfway during breakfast, Professor Flitwick declared that after the initial cleanup, they could tackle repairing the castle, but will concentrated on specific areas. Hermione suggested to him that perhaps they first make assessment of the structure's integrity for safety. While he was obviously pleased for her sound prompting, he informed them that Headmistress McGonagall had already inspected and assessed several structures and found them intact, leaving him a parchment containing the list of the specific areas they could begin with.

The small charms professor unnecessarily re-assured Hermione that the Headmistress had even started renewing the foundational re-warding as added precaution. The good professor obviously mistook the disbelief on her face; he assumed that she is still worried about the structure. But Hermione was just too shock, shock of when Minerva had managed to do the inspection – and the warding — amongst the many matters she was already occupied with.

At any rate, Hermione would find herself re-organizing the chaotic library of Hogwarts. She started rebuilding the blasted walls and collapsed shelves, before taking on the shattered study tables and chairs. When those tasks were done, she turned her attention to the books themselves.

She sorted, cleaned, repaired, and shelved thousands and thousands of the books and piles at one corner those beyond mending with a heavy heart. Being the sole person interested to immediately fix the library, the job consumed long hours that jumped into next day before she had the place back at its almost original organized state. By midday, she finally emerged from the library with satisfaction and proceeded to find Harry.

At the west wing first floor where repairing activities for the many destroyed classrooms and hallways are obviously at full force is where she found Harry. Her best friend observably caught her slightly raised brows, reading her surprise at finding people whom she had expected to be long gone but still around because when she reached his side, he gave a casual shrug. "Probably like us, staying until they have a clue on how to sort their own lives." He murmured to he.

Hermione quickly processed what Harry had said about people probably not knowing what is the next step for them. That staying at the castle is pretty much a safe answer, and a productive one. Although in her case and Harry's, where else would they be, honestly? And more honestly, she knows Hogwarts is exactly where she wants to be at the moment. Even if the primary reason for such has been absent from the castle. And timely so, Harry made to mention the person in her mind.

"Or until the Headmistress kicks us all out".

At Harry's mocking words, she raised one brow and before she could actually ask what he meant with it, he started explaining. "Professor Flitwick said that the Headmistress does not want anyone feeling _**compelled**_ to stay for the school's reparation. Furthermore, she is concern that we should be recuperating and not _**over-exerting**_ ourselves with undertakings that are actuality part of the Headmistress' responsibilities."

Hermione snorted and a sardonic retort is on the tip of her tongue when Harry himself launched his playful mockery. "I know… Incredulous. But Professor Flitwick swore that they were the Headmistress own words. **Com-pell-ed** and **o-ver-exert-ing.** "

At Harry's exaggerated utterance of the two 'offending' words, they both snickered. Perhaps due to its absolute absurdity, their snickers turned into broken laughs, which they unsuccessfully contained as they continue to murder the two affronting words exclusively between them.

"Mione, I am now _**compelling**_ you to start restoring the hallway just outside of this classroom but as I want you to _**over-exert**_ yourself, you may proceed by yourself."

"Yes Harry, after _**over-exerting**_ myself by completely fixing the library that I _**compelled**_ by myself to do so, I am now going to _**over-exert**_ myself with the hallway."

The repartee went on for few more remarks before eventually they realized their forgotten peers who had stopped working and now openly curious to what has gotten over the two of them as they doubled with broken laughter. Straightening herself with super human effort, she stopped laughing and Harry followed soon.

After a moment, she could see his best friend sporting a genuine smile, which she understood that the reason for it is not out of their blabbering but with the realization that they have in fact just shared a laugh for the first time without the war hanging over their heads. A genuine smile also made its way onto her face.

Several hours later while others have continued with their work on the classrooms including those on the next floor, she and Harry had taken on the hallways. Eventually they noticed Professor Flitwick with Professor Sprout started at the other end of the same long hallway they working on. In time their work convened on a single section; at that, they relieved their professors of the task as it was nearing dinner.

When Harry's stomach grumbled for the nth time that had them both chuckling, she also shooed him to the great hall, arguing that she'll get it done half in time without the distraction of his tummy. He agreed but promised to drag her if she doesn't show up within an hour.

Less than thirty minutes later, she sat down beside Harry; a seat apparently saved for her and received from him a glass of orange juice knowing that she has always preferred it over pumpkin. Thanking him and taking a sip of the juice, she forced herself to not inquire about Minerva who she immediately sought but could not find upon entering the great hall.

"I was about to pull you from working, it had taken you too long." Harry told her seriously.

"Oy, it was…" shortly pausing to calculate time, "it was just 23 minutes, we agreed one hour." She answered indignantly.

"Well, I thought your concentration and prowess would get it done in 15 minutes." Harry deadpanned and they both chuckled at the teasing.

Looking at the sole long table, Hermione could now see the rest of the people that have remained in the castle. Most have long started their dinner, but still hungrily digging in, and chatting away. Even Harry beside her is eating pleasurably. Not wanting him to be concerned about her disinclination to eat, she reached for bread and chunked off a piece. She knows she needs nourishment, with a sparse lunch she had and with the volume of work she did, she obligingly feed herself. But she is having a hard time swallowing, as she had not gotten back her appetite.

After a while, the chat around the table seemed to have shifted about the restoration work they are all doing in the castle. Like Harry and the others, weariness is visible in everyone's posture but a sense of satisfaction with a very productive day is also evident. Professor Flitwick, seated at the far end of the table requested their attention to express his appreciation of everyone's aid for the last two days. With slight hesitation, he gently reminded everyone to not feel obliged to stay if they need to be elsewhere as the castle will eventually be done without anyone pushing themselves too hard. While others nodded or shrugged as Professor Flitwick resumes his appreciation for their help, Hermione and Harry shared a snigger, breathing life back to the jokes they both toss back and forth earlier.

Hermione was about to start the ribbing with Harry when Professor Flitwick unknowingly started it for them when he particularly singled out Hermione's incredible work of the library. She humorously responded that she only did it in case there will be a particular task that they have no idea how to fix; they could check the library for the answer. Everyone laughed then returned to their pleasant dining.

Harry on the other hand whispered his teasing of how civilization would falter if fixing a library had not been regarded as the number one thing to do after a battle. Hermione decided to unfasten their earlier blabbering on _**'compelling'**_ and _**'over-exerting'**_ , so she sniggered a rejoinder of how she was helpless not to do so, as the wretched books _**compelled**_ her to get them done right away even if she has to over-exert herself.

Harry choked on the roast chicken he was eating and this prompted Hermione to tease him more while rubbing his back, telling him that he is **over-exerting** himself with the chicken. For a good while until they were having dessert, they would dim-wittedly and exaggeratedly make reference with those two inauspicious words.

Then not knowing why, Hermione raised her head towards the far side entrance of the great hall in time for the entry of Minerva McGonagall, who strode purposely to her Deputy.

Hermione has no idea what she actually expected, but when she saw Minerva, after more than 48 hours when she had her fingers interlaced with the older witch, she was **unprepared for "The Minerva McGonagall" that emerged**.

Vaguely, she heard people starting to greet the Headmistress but she has commenced getting lost in her own world. Reconciling the different images she has of Minerva McGonagall against the one down the long table talking to Professor Flitwick, Hermione is inwardly scrambling at the transformation and yet at the similarity of the 'Minervas' in her head.

She reckoned that the difference is not Minerva's clothes; the woman is just in her usual sensible robes, nor her hair, as they are up in her customary bun. Yes, the woman is not wearing her spectacles but Hermione had seen her many times in the past without it. But still— this is not the witch Hermione remembers before she left Hogwarts with Harry and Ron. Absolutely neither the witch she watched two days ago bloodied, dirtied and worn out. And there is no way this woman is the same one she had shared a moment of exclusive closeness just after the battle. Could she be the same?

A few heartbeats later, Hermione's heart stopped at a starling discovery – of Minerva's radiating power.

For the first time since she had known the older witch, Hermione had never seen her magic as pronounced. So pronounced that with neither a wand in hand nor a spell on her lips, Minerva's magic is nonetheless whirling around her even though she is merely discussing chores with her new Deputy Head. At the almost tangible magic running around the woman, Hermione's eyes widened in fright and astonishment.

Dear Merlin, such powerful witch... Then with a short mental leap, Hermione was led to unadulterated truth— Minerva McGonagall is possible the most powerful witch!

'Of course' Hermione mumbled to herself with details started rushing in her head about the emerald-eyed witch. It consequently knocked her down to an emotional induced attack of wretchedness.

_**The woman is the Headmistress of Hogwarts, the best magical school there is.** _

_**The woman has an Order of Merlin, First Class. Two and will become Three.** _

_**The woman is a War Heroine, now THREE times.** _

_**The woman would be the leader of the Order of Phoenix, though thankfully unnecessary.** _

_**The woman is a Transfiguration Master level three.** _

_While officially level three is the highest acknowledgment in paper, Hermione had long found out that masters have 'unofficial' rank after level three. Professor Septima Vector (who Hermione learned has level 1 in transfiguration but eventually focused fostering her better talent in Arithmancy) told her during her fourth year that amongst the Transfiguration masters, Minerva is considered number seven. She remembered dropping her jaw further when Professor Vector added that while a handful has number four in Transfiguration, no one else alive and no one else in this century had passed number five._

_**And now- the woman is the focal point in the Wizarding world at the inception of their new world.** _

Oh bloody hell.

Hermione could not help the trembling that fell upon herself at the clear realization of the tremendous space between herself and the witch… of the woman that served as her north star during the dark days and darker nights that got her through intact. The woman of that magnitude is not for anyone's taking… The culmination is knocking the breath out of Hermione. Minerva McGonagall is heartbreakingly above and beyond her reach. Her bloody muggle-born-turning-nineteen-year-old self is bloody fucked.

Fight or flight.

Fight or flight.

Fight or flight.

**She chose the latter.**

She started to get up from her seat to leave when Harry's gentle hand settled on hers, impeding her departure, almost making her jump. "Hermione what's going on?" he quietly asked beside her.

She just shook her head in an answer, then nodded at whatever else Harry might have said, guessed that he must have asked if everything is okay. Then right there and then, she told him that she needs to be somewhere. Told him that she would be sorting personal matters and would contact him after. She dislodged Harry's hand on her as she stood up and hurriedly walked towards the great hall exit and looked nowhere else. Harry caught up to her several steps outside the great hall and tightened his hold on her arms when she refused to stop.

"Please Harry… I have to go." She pleaded at him.

"Will you... Will you let me know when you get wherever you need to go to?" Harry pleaded back.

"Will try to write to you tomorrow."

"We swore to never run away from each other Mione."

"I know Harry, I am not… **not from you**. I… just need to go. Please."

Harry gave her a huge and whispered to her to take care and see him when she could. Not spending one second more, Hermione nodded and dragged herself away from Hogwarts; apprehensive of what idiocy she might do if she stays— like grabbing the Headmistress for a burning kiss or professing her undying love. Such madness... Madness that lit the pounding need to escape and settled like a demanding guest at Hermione's wretched guts.

# # #

A sound of a minor crumbling of stonework roused Hermione from the memory expedition she had embarked. She did not bother casting a shield as it barely sent dust her way and just turned her back on it. The ugly ruins of the training grounds effectively drew her back to the here and now. The war is over. They are supposed to move on. Build on. Learn from the errors. Make due of the promises they made if they make it alive… She is alive… And she made one promise…

**Give her heart's desire with full reverence no matter what.**

That was the promise…

And it was utterly madness.

Hermione pulled on her 'Golden Brain' and started examining her predicament. She Lined-up arguments and suppositions to uproot the havoc playing in her heart. She has to be logical, has to be realistic if she wants to have a chance out of desolation she buried herself in. So she started her deposition.

They were in a war. She was tagged as one of the undesirables. Hunted by death-eaters and anyone else who wanted to make a fortune out of their captivity and eventual demise.

The overwhelming distress from knowing that with just one misstep, they would not have another day, or another hour, or another moment— it enveloped her day-and-night.

The enormity of Harry's quest, their quest to find and destroy the horcruxes was too burdensome, too straining that many times it brought them to the brink of their own destruction.

While Harry was labeled as the boy who lived and 'chosen' to be the one to end the dark lord, she and Ron love Harry too much to let him do it on his own. And her, marked as the brain of the trio had been thrown the job of coming-up with answers after answers... as if she was a charmed bottomless bag carrying every solution.

Those were the fucking circumstances…

Surely anyone will be lure into making impossible-over-reaching-promises, ones that no one would never make if the situations were not ominous... She can't be too hard on herself, after all she was spinning in ambiguity the moment the three of them decided to take off. Right? Right.

Basically, she gave away her parents. Left home. Quit school. Lived in hunger. Lived in peril.

Who wouldn't be driven to make insane promises?

Then the bloody war stripped her all her excuses and denials.

It shoved her into admission that she is gay. That she is in-love. Had been in-love for quite sometime with one person. Inconsequential that she cannot even figure out how and when it started. And of all bloody witch in their world, that person is Minerva McGonagall. Who at that time was tied at Hogwarts; residing with death-eaters who for certain wanted the woman either dead or be sent to Azkaban. Again, who would not be insane? With worry? With fear? With longing?

Then the tide turn completely- Horcruxes were destroyed. Harry killed Voldemort. The war ended. They lived. She lived. Minerva lived…

Then unexpected and exclusive tender moments were granted to her with the woman, hours just after the war. For the first time she had a glimpse of Minerva who was far from the stern Professor she left a year ago... The woman bloody let her wiped the grim off the face she had stared for six years and imagined for the last year... The woman bloody called her 'Darling' and stroke her hair and was honest with her... Those moments, completely opened her hopeful heart.

And reality crushed it.

Three days ago, her brilliant mind finally caught up; facts surfacing one after another of who Minerva is… versus who she is... Obscurities removed, it delivered her into painful comprehension that the promise she made herself— to be brave and go for the desire of her heart— **can never be fulfilled.**

It hurts. Like she is living in hell. But she knows she cannot stay in hell. Briefly, she wonders which circle of hell she is in, before compelling her mind to design the strategies she'll have to force herself with in order to get out of her hell. How to go forward.

Find her parents. Find Kingsley and ask if she could take NEWTS at the Ministry right away. Find a job. Find how to get mastery level (nope, not in Transfiguration). Find Harry and Ron and talk to them about living arrangement. Find how to come out to her best friends without losing them. Find an interesting girl who does not have to have those damnable emerald eyes, nor striking intelligence, a passable wit will do...

Maybe, just maybe, one morning she'll get up and laugh at this heartbreak. This chapter she is determinedly closing. She is **ripping the** haphazardly placed **plaster** and disinfecting it with hard conclusion and resolution...

**She has to stop loving Minerva McGonagall. And stop hoping to be loved back.**

"If only things are that **simple**." Hermione eventually voiced out in exasperation. She took a deep breath. So deep that she felt she just inflated her empty lungs to unhealthy maximum capacity.

Then a clearing of throat from somewhere at her right side made her draw her wand towards that direction.

"Easy Ms. Granger. It would not do well for me to survive three wars only to fall into a… mishap."

Less than ten feet away is the very woman causing havoc in Hermione's being. Minerva McGonagall had managed to go over the debris from the pole that had fallen just earlier without her noticing. She quickly deduced that the older witch was probably in her animagus form that's why she missed her arrival. Or that she was altogether lost in her rumination. Though she had immediately lowered her wand upon seeing that it was Minerva, she realised that she had yet to acknowledge the woman.

"I would never be able to finish a spell without you disarming me." Hermione started her greeting as she turned fully to the other woman. "And at any rate, I would **never** ever cast one against you."

At this, her brown eyes met emerald ones, both disappointedly and expectedly- Minerva's walls are all in placed. Mental reminders activated inside Hermione of the evaluation and the foregone conclusion she just made concerning the venerated witch in front of her. She decided to take a page from her mentor's book; she physically shifted away from the woman and figuratively pulled up her own walls and barricaded herself.

"You should not be here." Of the tone, Hermione instantly picked up that it is the Headmistress who is speaking to her. "There are still damaged areas that have not been wholly secured, it would be foolish to romp around Ms. Granger." Yep, unmistakably, 'THE Headmistress' is the one speaking to her at the moment.

Hermione wanted to scathingly remark how _the Great Headmistress remiss her responsibilities for not immediately attending them_ , but she found that she couldn't. While she is hurting, she would never intentionally cause pain to the woman she is in-love with. Instead she found herself saying, "May I offer any assistance?"

"Thank you. Your restoration of the library was remarkable, but work at Hogwarts had been ceased."

"You sent everyone home." It was not a question, as upon arrival the locked front gates clued her straightaway that the castle had been emptied. And she ignored the commendation on her work of the library.

"Everyone needs to take some time-off for a proper rest. Following the ceremony, we closed the castle. As much I do want to get things done here, Professor Flitwick asked me not to do any work until he and the staff comes back after a week."

"And yet you are here."

"I had to come, Hogwarts alarm informed me that one of the temporary wards was dismantled."

"I did not mean to take you away from your rest." Hermione is partly surprised at the information. Honestly she wasn't sure if the Headmistress would leave the castle unattended. But hearing the answer to her non-question, it made her both glad that the woman had also taken time to rest and contrite that she had disturbed it. "I apologise." She somewhat mumbled.

"Less than a skillful person could not have it dismantled. You certainly have improved yours, and that is not entirely surprising."

Hermione shifted back to look at the older woman, to better gauge her meaning and she met the impenetrable walls as expected. She could see that a very guarded observation is focused on her. But her gaze detected the slightest twitching at the corner of Minerva's thin lips. _'Who last kissed those lips?'_ Unbidden thoughts assaulted Hermione.

That threw her back into the emotional upheaval she had began keeping under wraps after her earlier contemplation and chosen resolution. Without warning, her mind jumped at rewinding the poignant moments they shared after the battle. The images flashing in her mind are making her unhinged. In an effort to gather oneself, she shifted again away from the woman, trying to raise more walls around her.

"You cannot stay here Ms. Granger."

Hermione almost jumped at the nearness of the other witch, who apparently closed the distance that earlier separated them. The emotional turmoil rising from within her is now accelerating due to the physical closeness of the older woman… the woman she is in-love with… the woman she is going to stay away from to possibly liberate herself from the insane notion of loving her… from the more insane hope of being loved in return.

"While I know how capable you are in defending yourself, lets not resume to duel so soon in case runaway death-eaters wander from the forbidden forest."

A pale elegant hand touched her shoulder and this pushed her further into the edge. Hermione scuffled for preservation and the weapon she got hold is anger. Hot fury she directed to the mentioned death-eaters.

"Why the hell not?" Hermione is fleetingly conscious of the cracking magic she is unleashing, of which she could not, or rather do not care to restrain anymore. "Maybe we should even pursue them right now while they are bleeding, and lessen their chance of surviving.. Of returning.. Of ever causing suffering once again. Lets find them and cause them permanent suffering or altogether finish them so they cannot ever return."

"Oh Hermione, evil would always try to return. But while they are not around, we must not spend one moment longer in suffering- not one moment as their captive..."

Hermione heard **not** the Headmistress. She heard **not** the public war heroine.

The one speaking to her now is the woman who had clasped her hand, and stroked her hair, assured her that she is alive, that they are both alive... The woman who dispelled the tremors after she voiced her greatest terror... The woman with her now is the woman whom she had shared an exclusive tender moments after the battle... The woman is the unknown Minerva she had a glimpse of...

But this close regard granted to her right now by the same woman she had decided not to love anymore is too much for Hermione. The use of her first name and not Ms. Granger is too much. The two hands that now on her shoulders conveying comfort is too much. The heat coming from the woman behind her is too much. The assaulting scent of the woman of olive, ink, and parchment is too much. Her cracking magic and the older woman's radiating power are making Hermione's thrust into the final brink. She feels her oxygen cut out, her vision blurred...

Then everything became black.

* * *

**End of chapter 4 |** **Almost nighttime - Ripping the plaster**


	5. As if they’ve done this before

**Year 1998 | 1st Seventh of May**

**Early Evening**

* * *

"Hermione... Hermione…"

Hermione could hear someone calling her name. Could feel someone touching her shoulder. Attempting to rouse her from stupor. But she would reject the spurring. The blackness is greatly agreeable to her beaten body, exhausted mind, and afflicted heart.

"Hermione wake up."

The hand on her shoulder had become quite insistent, relentless in its goal and almost pleading for her to wake up. She is having difficulty surfacing to full consciousness but partly she knows she should respond. She would give in to the plea, if she could just summon a little strength.

"Give me few minutes Harry." Somehow she remembers the necessity for her to get up, and though she meant not to make excuses, she couldn't help but mumbled, "I think I got too spent re-casting the wards earlier but I'll get up in awhile and will take over handling the horcux."

Unable to open her eyes and really trying hard to get herself into sort of wakefulness, she turned on her side, pushing her body into the makeshift bed she been using for several months while out on the run. Only it feels different.

"Hermione I loathe to wake you but you need sustenance."

And that voice isn't Harrys.

The hand that was earlier on her shoulder is now gently raking her hair and tucking some loose sections behind her ear. A familiar scent…and then the notion that she is partially pressed into someone's warmth had finally registered into her brain. With the greatest effort, she shifted her back into the mattress and opened her eyes.

For a moment her vision was blurry, then it settled into a much-concerned emerald eyes of Minerva McGonagall.

Minerva… Waking her up... Seated on the right side edge of the bed… A bed she had no recollection at all.

Hermione was trying to determine if she is still asleep, if what she is seeing is just a phantom of her yearning. Pondering hard, she closed her eyes in order to disperse the image of Minerva just beside her… and reconcile her current situation. She started digging up the last thing she could remember.

"Hermione, I know you need sleep, but it will be better for you if you eat something first."

She heard the request for her to be awake once again. And felt a hand gently ran down one of her arms. "What… ha-ppend—?" She slowly re-opened her eyes as she attempted to ask questions of her whereabouts, but suddenly found her throat too dry to complete her sentence.

Also, it finally dawned on her that her most favorite emerald-eyed woman is indeed sitting with her and it's not just a product of her imagination.

"You fainted and I apparated us here. Do you recall being at Hogwarts training ground?"

Hogwarts… Training ground… Hermione slowly nodded as she undergoes flashback.

' _Oh Hermione, evil would always try to return. But while they are not around, we must not spend one moment longer in suffering…'_

_Minerva… Gentle words… Tender touches on her shoulders… Her magic cracking… Difficulty breathing… Blackness…_

"Where... where is here?" She asks pulling back from the recollection.

"The Manor."

"Manor?"

"McGonagall Manor. I… I took you home. I was unsure if you'd rather be at the Burrow. Harry mentioned that you opted to stay somewhere else. Only he didn't mention where. Certainly we could go anywhere if you wish, but I would insist that we only do after you've eaten something."

"I'm not really— " Hermione not wanting to be dishonest, but also not inclined to announce her present dislike of eating, she then settled for one version of truth. "I can't seem to find any appetite…"

Minerva nodded at her in clear understanding, "I know. For a while, eating would really feel like shoving dry stones down your throat, and your stomach would stubbornly refuse easy digestion."

With the unexpected exact comprehension, Hermione could not help the feeling of easement. She was beginning to doubt if she was just making things difficult for herself, but she knows that it's never her nature to purposely starve herself. She has no intention to forsake her health, things are just muddling her mind too much.

She keeps forming assaulting thoughts; like how could she take-up dining as if nothings amiss…when several acquaintances of hers would never eat…as they are now dead? Part of her logical brain is aware of how futile the contention is. But it's still not helping her pick up a spoon. Nevertheless, she knows it shall pass. And she is banking that it does sooner than later.

"You have to try. You know you have to." Minerva made to move and reach out for the tray on the bedside table she didn't notice earlier. "You're extremely drained of any nutrients, not to mention thoroughly dehydrated. Your body couldn't take the negligence anymore. You can't allow yourself to be gravely ill."

Upon seeing the food in it, she felt her tummy instantly recoil at the rejection. She concentrated on not making any heaving action and forced herself to think of the accuracy of what Minerva has said about her sustenance. Moving to sit upright, she directed her thoughts to simple good sense. After almost forgoing so many meals, it really is a surprise that it had taken her only now to collapsed.

"Soup, sandwich and fruits. You need not finish all if you can't, just have something. Please?"

Hermione heard the soft plea, stared into emerald imploring eyes, before carefully looking at the tray with food that had been placed between them on a conjured bed table. She checked the reaction of her tummy and found that it was not in protest anymore, contrary to how she felt just moments ago. Irrational or not, she attributed the settling down of her guts to Minerva's intervention.

"Will you share some bites with me?" She surprised herself with her question…as well as Minerva.

After a short pause, unbelievably, the older witch nodded and conjured another fork. "But you are eating most of these as I already had dinner."

Hermione nodded in agreement; stirred the soup gently and then took her first spoonful of soup slowly. When she looked up and found Minerva's approving features, a smile worked its way on her face. She then had another while the older woman forked a slice of a fruit.

"Is your back better?" She asked, pausing her spoon mid-air as she suddenly remembered the older woman's injuries from the battle.

"Yes, the swelling is almost gone. Are your burns completely healed?" Minerva asked back and Hermione nodded to convey an affirmation.

For several minutes, they remained silent as they continue to share the food between them. Plainly, Minerva is maneuvering to just take a bite after every three or four ones of Hermione's. When she managed to finish more than half of the serving and felt her tummy slightly objected to take more, she put her utensils down and conveyed satiation. She was afraid that Minerva would insist she eats more but the older woman merely nodded.

As she was handed a glass of orange juice, she watched Minerva wandlessly and wordlessly vanished the tray. After drinking half of the contents, she handed back the glass to Minerva who automatically finished the remaining juice. Following that, they repeated the same thing with a glass of water— Hermione drinking the first half and Minerva finishing the glass. Their actions were done in such ease that one would think they had done such not for the first time, but a thousand times.

Then Minerva magically refilled the glass and set it on the side table. When the older woman made to stand in order to depart, Hermione placed her hands on her to halter the movements, silently asking her to stay a little longer.

"I called you Harry." She started as Minerva sat back on the bed. The older woman cocked her head, waiting for her to explain further to what she was referring.

"When you were waking me up. I thought you were Harry."

"You did," Minerva mindfully replied.

"I thought… For a moment… It felt like I was still out there… That I have to do things…"

When she and Ron figured Harry's plan to go after the Horcruxes by himself, there was no question that they would not allow him do it alone. In the same vein, she recognized and accepted the weight that had fallen on her as the presumed bearer of all the answers— the designated brain. The person expected to know and cast spells after spells for their needs, particularly for their protection…

The burden, without a doubt, rammed Hermione into the ground. And now that the war is over, the disentanglement is just fusing with so many other things already running rampant inside her. But ceasing her descent into emotional attack is realizing that Minerva had intertwined their fingers and now softly tugging for her to meet her eyes…mirroring that one they shared after the battle. When she did raise her brown eyes, they met clear emerald ones; thereupon spoke sincerity and certitude.

"I cannot imagine how hard it was for the three of you out there. How burdensome for you. I am just grateful that it is over. Voldemort is gone. Truly gone this time. Harry is alright. You don't have to protect him anymore… And Ronald… And yourself…"

Minerva shifted closer to her, still holding her gaze, and with somewhat pained expression, Hermione heard the solemn pronouncement, "But I wish with all my heart, that **I was out there with you— to protect you…** and Harry and Ronald."

Overwhelmed and unable to hold the urge any longer, Hermione crashed herself to Minerva. Her heart is bursting with love for the woman who had captured her entire being for quite sometime… And the desire to extinguish any space between them as they embraced is coursing through her.

At the same time, her mind is pounding for her to use common sense, and prompted recall of the resolutions she made not many hours ago.

_Of how she was going to work on unloving Minerva who is not for anyone's taking. Of how she was going to stay away from Minerva in order to recover from the heartbreak._

But Hermione could not care less… She shuts her brain for the meantime... And reveled in being in Minerva's arms…

"You **couldn't**." Hermione reluctantly withdrew herself, wanting to look intently at Minerva as she assuages the woman. "You needed to be at Hogwarts. Without you there, the staff would have no one to draw courage from. Then students would have no chance at all. **Hogwarts needed you**."

Hermione saw flashes of several raw emotions on Minerva's face. She wanted to capture them and dissect them and hoard them but the older woman has obviously gotten hold of her control instantaneously, retelling Hermione of Minerva's damnable infamous walls. But for all that, a smile is still gracing Minerva's face in assuredness, and Hermione not wanting to altogether cut the candidness they've been sharing since waking up, she proceeded to open another section of herself to the woman.

"I don't think I'm returning to Hogwarts for my last year. A big part of me wants to come back, but without Harry and Ron there… It'll be different… Difficult even.

"I figured as much." Minerva replied in kind understanding.

"How would I know it's not the wrong decision?"

"Sometimes- its how it feels. I supposed it does not feel right to you to come back without your closest friends? Furthermore, you already know that staying another year at Hogwarts is irrelevant to your learning. We both know that you could have taken and passed NEWTS in your 5th year or even 4th, and get marks of Es and Os."

Relieved and pleased that Minerva supports her probable decision not to go back to Hogwarts, she playfully asked, "Maybe **not** in Divination?"

"Oh well, we all have that one subject." Minerva deadpanned.

They chuckled at the common sentiment. Unknowingly they both thought back at the various meetings they had at Minerva's office, of incidents that had them lightheartedly affront Divination. Almost all their meetings were spent in serious sessions of learning and fervent discussions particularly on more complex aspects of magic, like they would comb the latest transfiguration journal. But from time to time when Divination is mentioned in tangent, they would unable to withhold their amusement and subsequent poking of the subject. Hermione clearly remembers Minerva holding her smile when she first admitted that she had dropped Divination after arguing with Professor Trelawney's illogical presentiment.

"Though I would have to admit, I would miss, just as I had this year, that bi-monthly knock at my office for a fresh intellectual sparring with one brilliant young lady."

"Really?"

"Aye. Do you know that at times it would occur to me how someday you'd bring up a topic that I would falter with?

" **Never**. That _**someday**_ will not happen." Smiling brightly at what Minerva said about missing her, but rather unsure how to address it without leading into mad confession of her love, she decided to issue back a rhetorical question. "Do you know that students, especially Ravenclaws fear that there isn't a spell they could find in the library that you do not know?

"Quite a compliment but severely inaccurate." Minerva replied grinning, and the corner of her eyes crinkled in amusement.

"Come on, how many you've left **unread** in that library?" Hermione gibed, raising the digits of her hands in illustration. "Ten books?"

"How many books that **YOU** have not read?" Minerva retorted, reaching for Hermione's hands again, and clasping them back together unthinkingly.

"Oh, six years did not give me a lot of time to get through even tenth of them. Plus, it's not easy to sneak out books from the restricted area you know? Now grinning widely as Minerva lifted an eyebrow at her reference of accessing the restricted area, she carried on with her teasing. "So you _**did**_ read the entire library?"

"No... No! A couple of shelves I skipped… like those containing books on Divination. And I avoided those oppressive volumes on potion recipes, as the laborious text tend to shut my eyes." Minerva dryly responded and it had Hermione openly laughing.

"Okay, okay… That makes about twenty to twenty-five books unread!"

"Who in Merlin's name started that imprecision? And please, a bookish person calling another for her bookish penchant is not nice! You're incorrigible!" Minerva complains mockingly… with chuckles coming out from their banter.

Hermione could not help but get hooked on the rare loose chuckles that are coming from Minerva. The bright gleaming of her emerald eyes is enchanting to say the least, and it dawned on her how the woman in front of her is not the one presented in public, but Minerva in private.

At the realization, her heart was pulled at two different directions. One of them she entirely ignored, as the other is about staying in the moment, which she intends to draw for as long as she could.

"But really, if I have read most of them, that's because of what you said."

Hermione quickly backtrack a bit, "That six years and I've made almost tenth?"

"Yes, only six years and you've read through a _**quarter**_ of them, **not tenth** , excluding several those in the restricted areas." Minerva sported a challenging expression at her obvious intent to correct. She withheld the objection; bit her lip with her shoulders shaking in laughter.

"I on the other hand had far longer. Most parents of your fellow students weren't even born yet when I started perusing that library. That's one product of old age."

"You're hardly old." Hermione earnestly protested.

"But I am Hermione. You've read _**Hogwarts: A History**_ , possibly more than once, so you know very well that I am… old."

"That's relative. We know that upon reaching 25 in years, we don't age like muggles anymore, that ours is half the pace."

"Even so, that still makes me quite old."

"But surely you've realised that **YOU** don't age like other witches— that you seemed to age half of half the pace."

Hermione saw the surprise and unease in Minerva's face but they were instantly dismissed. Expression of mischief dwells in it instead. "You need glasses Hermione!"

"Uh-uh, Mrs. Weasley swore you barely aged from the time she graduated from Hogwarts. How you could _**defy magical ageing**_ is beyond comprehension even for magical people? And incidentally, that's what Slytherin is most afraid of you?

"That I am old?"

"No… But that you could defy elementals in magic… Sort of **betray** primal runic. You know how Slytherins are with their proclivity on concepts of _purity_."

"So, between the Ravenclaws and Slytherins, I am a **smart-ass-traitor**?"

Laughter tore from Hermione's lips, one that definitely came deep from her belly. She couldn't believe Minerva use of language and self-deprecating humour. Actually, she could. She knows the older witch's sardonic nature is just her extreme wicked sense of humour. Most students are wary and clueless how to react when Minerva would drop one or two wisecracks, but she always— always get a kick out of it.

"And let me guess what the fair-play Hufflepuffs says. That if I could deduct points from my own house, I would unreasonably-reasonably deduct twice from theirs because I expect them to be the most behaved house?"

Hermione unable to respond in mirth, she just nodded her head. Minerva's spot-on humor is beginning to send her into a laughing fit.

"Lovely, that would make me an _**overly-upright-smart-ass-traitor?**_ "

Hermione could not help but laugh harder; tears are forming in her eyes at Minerva's ballooned self-deprecations. She good-humoredly injects more ribbing through her broken sentences. "How—do—you—know—that? Oh wait, because—you—are—a smart—ummm—some—thing! Ravenclaws are right to fear your supreme knowledge!"

"How uplifting the way student-body regards me." Minerva wryly remarked, though her emerald eyes are indeed sparkling in laughter. "And pray tell what my Gryffindors dread about me?"

The question abruptly stopped Hermione from laughing. Her brows grew knitted as she tossed in her head the consensus amongst her house members when asked what they feared about one Minerva McGonagall?

"That— terrible huh?" Minerva raised a brow and Hermione could see a bit of worry in her, though she could see as well how the older woman is determined not to show it.

" **Gryffindors fear that we would not make you proud of our house.** " Hermione softly says with much reverence that she could muster.

Minerva's eyes perceptibly soften, and then the corner of her mouth curved into a wonderful smile at hearing those touching words. "That's quite… an honour… and exceedingly humbling."

Hermione nodded in conviction as she went on saying, "Harry once told me— that as much as he wanted to heed your suggestion to fly under the radar when that horrible Umbridge was at the school, he said— he always felt that you would be more disappointed if we act less than who we are. Less than Gryffindors that we ought to be."

Pride erupted on Minerva's face and Hermione could she see how it was running along with memories that are obviously replaying inside her head. Perhaps one of them is the incident that Harry once narrated to them. Of Minerva telling him to have a biscuit when sent to her office just after he strongly opposed Umbridge in the classroom, fighting for the truth.

Hermione wanted to tell her more of the many commendation from fellow Gryffindors that she had heard through the years. Like how they wanted to win the cup not just for themselves, but more so for the Head of their House. The ardent desire to keep that elated expression on Minerva's face is setting her heart on fire. To witness it is in of itself a treasure.

Then she heard Minerva's thoughtful words, "Godric Gryffindor could not be more proud… Especially of you three— Harry, Ronald and you."

Hermione could not possibly beamed more in response. With her trademark Cheshire grin on her face, she could not help but _**again**_ open another section of herself to the woman… In effect digging herself deeper in emotional sinking sand.

"Do you want to know what my boggart is?"

"If you wish to tell me." Minerva replied and impulsively raised one hand to tuck Hermione's hair behind one ear.

" **You**."

At Minerva's knitted brows, Hermione hastily amended, "I mean, not you— you per se. But, **of you telling me…** that I failed at everything. That you just made an error in giving my Hogwarts letter. That you will tell me that I am not good enough to have a place here in your world— magical world."

Winded at the rushed declaration, Hermione stared in horror as she apparently rendered Minerva speechless, and it gave her a lapsing feeling. The sound of silence has not given her a sense of assurance; an onslaught of misgivings is beginning to launch from the pit of her guts.

Then without warning, Hermione hears a full abandoned guffaw from Minerva McGonagall. The woman who exclusively holds her heart is now laughing intensely that tears are forming in her emerald eyes. One elegant hand is cradling the side of her stomach, easing the stitches produced by laughter.

In any other situation, to be laughed at just after baring a part of oneself would be very offensive. But the merrily laughing witch in front of her could not bring her to anything remotely negative. In fact, the radiant picture of Minerva laughing without constraint is taking hold of her heart in rapture. _**'Merlin, she's beautiful.'**_ Hermione thought and it's absolutely taking her breath away.

"Forgive me, I didn't mean to laugh… It's just that— most people fear Voldemort, or ghastly creatures, and endless other mortality perils, but you— your fear of me saying irrational things to you had me taken aback."

"They are not irrational. I could care less if I'd make Hogwarts four founders proud, including Merlin himself. Because… **Because I would be much content to make Minerva McGonagall proud!** "

Hermione filter totally went out of the window. She felt so upset at the notion that Minerva thinks that her fear is too insignificant so she let words come out of her lips without running through the implications first.

"Oh Hermione, you may rest your fear. Do you know that when the Order learned that you three took off, somehow I was convinced that you'd make it through? Yes, indeed I worried so much about you, feared for what you'd have to go through, but I've witnessed how _**brilliant**_ you are. I knew you'd never allow yourself to fail at anything you've set your sights on. While it is true that Harry was the focal point of Voldemort's downfall, let me tell you that he had no chance if he did not have you in his life. Harry **knows** that. And you'd be surprised how many of us believe that."

"Really?" Hermione asked tentatively, in a voice that had come out soft and shaky. She is quite shocked at what Minerva had said in explanation.

"Aye. And now that there is no war hanging over our heads, it's just a matter of time— a short one by my estimation; that you'd astound the entire wizarding world with your brilliance. I… We… can't wait for you to change the world. Actually, you already have.

Minerva declaration was heavily laced with apparent fondness. It tempted Hermione for a brief moment to debate within herself if the statement means more than mentor-caring-for-protégé. She wanted to convince herself that perhaps it is possible for her former professor to see her more than a former student. But then, as she looks intently into emerald eyes of Minerva McGonagall, she is clearly reminded how the woman is not for anyone's taking. She dismissed the madness of her longing.

"Hermione, I can just imagine the many great things line-up for you. Hence, the question should be— _do I_ … do we deserve you darling?"

Minerva's words pierced Hermione's heart in complexities. Unable to stop it, she crashed herself to the older witch for the second time. She felt strong arms wrapped around her too and her heart soared into bliss and anguish. The moment is too grand and too consuming. She feared she'd never be the same person again if Minerva would not be part of her life in any capacity the older woman extends to her. It's thoroughly making her emotions spin into unknown breadth.

After a while, she felt Minerva eased her back on the bed. "We'll talk more tomorrow. You have to rest." Then moved to get up from her sitting position. "If you need anything, just call Dolly. She is in-charge of the Manor."

Not knowing what else to say, but with full emotions swimming inside her, she just nodded in response. Her gaze instinctively trailed after Minerva who is graciously making her way to the door. But before the woman reached the knob, Hermione calls out to her inaudibly.

"Minerva… " The older woman paused and turned back to look at her. **For the very first time** , she made use of Minerva's first name— one she had never before dare utter except in her mind. And the significance of the addressing also registered in the older witch's countenance.

"Yes?"

Her chocolate colored eyes stared tenderly into emerald ones, "Thank you." She breathed out and tore her gaze away from the magnificent eyes of Minerva McGonagall.

"You are welcome, Hermione. Good night."

Hermione watched the door closed behind Minerva's exit. And only then she released a breath she did not know she was holding. To help ignore the pull to follow the woman, she transferred her attention to the bedchamber that she had earlier unnoticed when Minerva was in the room with her.

The room is large but not overly so, with walls that are sparely decorated. But the paneling and columns of wood and stones have the hallmark of extraordinary class and quality that one couldn't deny even if one is not accustomed at looking designs. The high ceiling however is surmounted with carvings of some sort of coat of arms that Hermione is trying to place where she had seen before. The room has no fireplace but has a large window where a thick curtain is almost fully drawn leaving slight admittance of moonlight that supplements the lighted candles inside the room. Her thoughts are currently on the bed coverlet that her fingers are skimming when a soft pop garnered her attention.

"Pardon to disturb you Miss." Hermione shifted her eyes to the area where the sound came. She found an elderly house elf that had appeared near the door.

"Minerva wanted me to bring this to you in case you be wanting sleeping clothes. And to tell you that that door would lead you to the bathroom. She said she forgot to tell you so." The elf stepped forward to put the article of clothing on the foot of the bed then pointed to the door on the right side of the room.

"Are you Dolly? I'm Hermione. Please just call me Hermione. It's nice to meet you. Did you prepare for the food I ate? I'd like to thank you and to apologize that I probably disturbed your night."

Yellow luminescent eyes stared at her before a smile broke on her face. "No Miss ahh— No Hermione, it is of no trouble. Especially for you."

"That's most kind of you. Minerva said you are in-charge of the Manor."

"Yes. I have been since my mother went to the other side of life." Hermione could see the pride and the satisfaction etched at her old face and she could not help but smile at that.

Then she almost choked on her own saliva with what Dolly said next, "By the way Hermione, I am free. All elves here at McGonagall Manor are. If you must know, we stay here with Minerva of our own decision."

"What? Did you tell me that because you know about SPEW?" Hermione's eyes widened at the probability.

But somewhat disappointingly, Dolly blinked at her several times, clueless of what she was talking about. That confused Hermione because she was sure that Dolly's declaration is correlated to SPEW, _Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare_ , an organization she set at Hogwarts… Hogwarts!

"Do you know any elf at Hogwarts?"

"Binky. Mostly he stays there to look after Minerva, but he mentioned no SPEE…SPEW?..."

"Then why did you tell me what you just told me? About you and the elves here."

"One school break that Minerva went home, she talked about one student named Hermione who had taken the crusade for elves' welfare. How you were making hats. How no one had the heart to tell you that no elf wanted to clean her House common room anymore. How she hopes that you'd always be brave to take up very good cause no matter how unpopular, and that one day you beat the odds with your brilliance."

Hermione gasped at finding out that Minerva knew about it. AND that Minerva talked about it…about her…here…at McGonagall Manor…at Minerva's home.

"Minerva said it would have thrilled Isobel McGonagall."

"Minerva's mother?

"Her great-great grandmother. It was she who gave my grandmother clothes. Free her…our family… Of course we stayed, as we do not want to leave. Mistress Isobel asked that if we stay, we stay as part of McGonagall family not house slaves."

So Minerva's great-great grandmother freed their house elves, possibly more than hundred years ago; a wonderful discovery that is making Hermione notably pleased. Though she is still perplexed why Dolly out of the blue opened the topic about them being free as if needing to explain... as if she accused them of something. Then it clicked.

"Minerva made mention that she was concerned that the disappointment of not getting the cooperation of the very group you are fighting for would crash your fervor. That was how I told Minerva that if one lady named Hermione ever stays here, I tell how we have been family to McGonagalls... so that she would have an inspiration."

For the nth time tonight, Hermione's heart swells.

"Thank you Dolly. It is indeed a great encouragement."

The elder elf made a bow. "Manor had no guest for quite sometime, I hope you'd like it here Hermione. Is there anything else you'd be needing before I leave you goodnight?"

She said no and Dolly snapped her fingers, leaving her alone. She decided to take a bath to wash the day's grime on her. Her body appreciated the wonderful feeling of being clean. Afterwards knowing the dinginess she probably got into the bed earlier, she performed a _scourgify_ before she hopped back to bed.

As her eyes began to shut, a sudden pleasing thought occur to her; the set of pajamas given by Dolly that she is now wearing— is of the same kind that she found herself wearing when she woke the day after the battle — ivory colored satin. Seeing that Harry was also in one, she thought that it was him who took care of them. It never struck her to ask him. But now, apparently he didn't. Minerva was the one who took care of them.

Furthermore, she realised that without a doubt, Minerva was the one who placed the healing balms on her shoulder.

Hermione turned on her side; pressing her face into the pillow… she swore she could smell olive, scent of Minerva.

It produced a wide smile into Hermione's face… as she drifted to sleep.

* * *

**End of Chapter 5 | As if they’ve done this before**


	6. Scars, Sorrows and Salvation

**Year 1998 | 1st Seventh of May**

**The Same Evening**

* * *

Hermione let out a blood-boiling scream as her body received the impact of _**Cruciatus**_ curse.

"I'm going to ask you again! Where did you get this sword? Where?" Bellatrix Lestrange screamed in her face and she tried to get away from the death-eater but the crazy woman dragged her by the hair.

"We found it — we found it — PLEASE!" A terrible scream tore out from her throat as abuse ripped through her with another _CRUCIO_! Her body fell into the floor with a thud.

"You are lying, filthy Mudblood, and I know it!" Bellatrix yanked her left arm and carved into her skin— _**MUDBLOOD**_

The excruciating digging of a knife into her flesh had her roaring in agony. She felt her body on fire as she helplessly fights Bellatrix off her and frantically jerked her wounded arm closer to her.

_Lying, filthy Mudblood!_

_Filthy Mudblood!_

_Filthy Mudblood!_

Her mind is slipping as the burning sensation dominates her being. She desperately confines her arm closer to her body as the screaming insult of Bellatrix is pounding in her ears, drowning all other sound! As she felt someone reached for her, she twisted in disorientation to get away. She hysterically deflected the ones that she felt taking hold of her, scuffling in terror to flee from the incoming onslaught from Bellatrix.

Then a **loving voice** pierced in… finally got through her senses… rivaling Bellatrix's mad shouting.

"Hermione, _**open**_ your eyes darling…"

She forced out the scornful Bellatrix who had been spitting contempt, and instead trailed after that familiar cadence.

"It's Minerva… Darling, open your eyes… It's Minerva… I'm here Hermione… I'm not going to let anyone hurt you… Open your eyes darling… It's Minerva… I'm here… I'm here darling… Please open your eyes Hermione."

She directed her pulse on that gentle voice, using it to drive away the bedlam inside herself. She let that well-familiar lilt wash over her, and started extracting herself from the darkness that she had descended…surrendering and trusting to that tender supplication calling her name.

Eventually the haze started to dissipate.

She found herself slumped on the floor, fallen from the bed during her phantom struggle. She clutched her violated arm close to her chest of which the scar is angrily staring at her — glamour charm cancelled amid the mess. Her body is half hauled away from a supposed enemy at one side and completely trembling from the storm.

"That's it Hermione, come back to me darling."

With a dilatory pace, Hermione arrived at the here and now. Heavily breathing with ears ringing as though she was underwater, she brushed one hand over her face and found it utterly wet from tears. She furiously blinked to dissolve obscurity and slowly arose from the nightmare…unreservedly deferring to that smooth Scottish tone.

Ultimately she surfaced…mist vanished… And sees welled-up emerald eyes heavily laded with concern— Minerva. Also slumped with her on the floor, carefully and patiently waiting for her to come to full consciousness.

"Minerva..…" Hermione crawled the insignificant space between them. Threw herself to the older witch, and held on securely for dear life.

As she did so, she felt the pull to bring her closer…landing herself into Minerva's lap. "I've got you darling, I've got you…" _**assuring words**_ , whispered to her. And arms wrapping firmly around her waist…

She buried her face into Minerva's neck as she releases wrecking sobs. She started blabbering every pain she harbors caused by the war. In broken narration, she tells Minerva every woes beginning the summer at the end of her sixth year.

She mournfully divulged to Minerva how she took away her parents memories. How she trembled at Harry's enormous task but would not let him do it alone. How she drowned at the heavy burden of being the one supposedly carrying all the answers. How the erupted fights with Harry and Ron almost destroyed them instead of the horcruxes. How the endless camping, searching, isolation, vulnerability bleed her inside out. How she blame herself for their capture by the snatchers. How she had been weak to fight Bellatrix during her torture. How the crumbled Hogwarts, and the after-war effects in general are crippling her…

And most and worst of all— **how she can always see** _ **her scarred cursed arm**_. That it matters not if she is unconscious, had it _glamoured_ , or had it covered with clothing… the word is always angrily staring at her. Mudblood… A word that served as a constant declaration that she is nothing but one _**lucky lowlife who did not die**_ during the war… but should have… instead of Fred… or Lupin… or Tonks… or Dumbledore… or so many others.

When she reached the end of her account, a whole grieving Hermione finally unraveled. Until this moment, she did not even realise that she had directed herself to skip all through sorrow evoked by the war. That she hastily bottled the events as soon as Voldemort was gone, without having true introspection. That the rush had her jumped over to another ill-fated emotional engagement. And the consequence of which had her to an equally desponded state. Every unwisely packed-up pain had surfaced with a vengeance. Crutching on Minerva, she cries with abandon for the war and the effects on her.

"I've got you now darling. I promise, I 've got you…"

She would hear soft affirmations in Scottish brogue and they anchored her in. And after what felt like an insurmountable time, Hermione began controlling her almost suffocating tears. She concentrated on Minerva's tender stroking of her back, letting it settle down her wretched soul. When her cries had long receded, she felt being shifted in Minerva's arms.

"Just hold tight." Gently whispered to her temple.

Minerva was already setting her down on the bed when she realized that the woman had carried her from the floor. Momentarily panicking that Minerva would now leave her; she tensed her grip, almost trapping the arms that are holding her.

"I'm not going anywhere darling." A promised was murmured in ears. "I'm just going to move a little to hand you a glass of water."

Only then she relented and watched Minerva helped her with the needed hydration. Afterwards she inwardly sighed in relief when Minerva settled back close to her, mirroring how she earlier sat when they had talk after eating.

For a while neither of them is saying anything but Minerva had leaned closer, and had taken to stroking her temple and hair. Hermione thoughts are still in haywire but fought to let the elegant fingers running through her hair bring her comfort.

"How do you it?" She asked in a voice hoarse from crying. "Three wars and you are completely intact. How do you forget the scars the wars left you?"

Silently she added, _'How do you stay you? Stay sane… Stay beautiful… Stay brave… Stay strong… Stay being the Minerva McGonagall that they all revered… All depending upon…'_

"Scars…" Minerva started, "Visible and invisible ones are not something to be forgotten."

"But how do you not curse back at life? How do you not raise greater sorrow against the sorrow caused to you by others?" She choked bitterly.

"Hermione… One— can't really compare degrees of sorrow. One's sorrow is neither greater nor lesser with another. Regardless of how sorrowful we feel; we can't underscore someone else's sorrow. And the inclination to strike back, which you refer as ' _raise sorrow'_ , while it may provide gratification, believe me it will not grant liberation." Minerva softly tells her, delicately but firmly addressing her unintentional harsh interrogation.

"If you didn't…" She paused and caught her accusing tone and got hold of the building anger inside her…not at the woman - never, but at the situation. "Sometimes I feel this rage for what life has thrown at us… that it wants to lash out not to even the score but up one on those who've hurt us. Then I look at you and I feel ashamed that I can't follow your lead – push to rebuild immediately; permit not the effects of the war enslaved you. How do you do it? Is it because it was your third?"

"Hermione… I am yet to find liberation like the rest of you."

"But you— as if you had it all figured out?"

"Maybe the first or the second war afforded me to get to know myself and offer me some sort of indication on how to figure it out. But that is _**still not**_ figuring it all out…" Hermione caught a flash of pain in Minerva's face before hearing the woman somberly say, "I have yet to tend to my own wounds Hermione. Again, just as the rest of you."

Glancing at the abysmal word carved on her arm, a question came out of her lips before it dawned on her what she actually asked, "Can you tell me yours scars?"

The stroking of her hair paused and Minerva seemed to have stopped breathing. She too held her breath at the notion that she had crossed some boundary. Deciding to withdraw the intrusion, she reached for Minerva's hand to say so when the older witch met her hands halfway then interlaced them before beginning her narration.

"The Grindelwald war had feed off Muggle conflict, which you know as the World War II. My family lived on the outskirts of Caithness, relatively away from the conflict related occurrences. But the effect across Europe was not one to ignore. It was almost at the end of my second year at Hogwarts when Albus, my Head House called me to his office to tell me that..."

Hermione watched the emerald green eyes became distant, obviously lost in the memory. Her pulse rate seemed to rattled in worry even without knowing the story yet.

"…Albus had to tell me that my parents and my two younger brothers, along with most of the town residents were killed— by Muggle air raids. To say that I was inconsolable… would not suffice."

Hermione inhaled sharply at Minerva's heartbreaking experience. She had never read anything about Minerva's parents or brothers. In fact, most if not all articles written about Minerva are academic related or what she had accomplished when she worked at the Ministry. During her _**research**_ , any information out there about Minerva is just the standard summary of her achievements, plus that the woman has Order of Merlin First Class for two wars, which undoubtedly would become three. And so Hermione was unprepared to learn that Minerva lost her entire immediate family all at once.

"That summer, I stayed with my maternal grandfather, here at the Manor. One I never knew I had, but who seemed to _**know everything**_ about me. He was working with then Minister Leonard Spencer-Moon for special tactic to help Albus track Gellert. For two months, shockingly he would let me study all the correspondence and the bits and pieces of intelligence and would even ask for my opinion."

"Was he the only family you had?"

"Him and my mother's only nephew Malcolm, has the same name as my youngest brother, but he was not around that time. My grandfather was the one to tell me that Caithness was bombed because Gellert sent the instruction to his Muggle war counterparts, as he cannot blast the place himself without giving away information of his trails."

"Why did he? Was it just a most grievous coincidence?"

"Yes and no. It was unknown why Gellert passed our town but while there, my mother— who had not used her wand for more than a decade, did so that time to create a bunker under our house. It was likely that she exercised long unspoken incantations to cast protective charms in fear that the Muggle war would eventually reach our far-away area."

"But when your mother uncapped her long dormant magic, it was extremely unstable; despite…or most specially because she was a highly-skilled witch— who had repressed her power when she married your Muggle father. The long stretch of dormancy unleashed a side-reaction and Grindelwald doubtlessly sensed the oppressed magic. Considering the point of his crusade, it possibly raged him at a realization that a magical person is secreting their power in a Muggle modest town."

"You are thoroughly reminding me of how brilliant you are." Despite of the situation, Minerva gave a half-smile. "Yes, he dreamt of conquering everyone, especially the Muggles."

"And coined it as _**For the Greater Good**_." Hermione had read that Grindelwald had a strong fascination of wielding the power of Master of Death. One he actually shared with Dumbledore but for different motivation. "He wanted to overturn the Statute of Secrecy. He campaigned that we should not be afraid to unleash our magic and let the Muggles know our powers. That it was them who should scrambled away and hide from us. For that, he amassed an army of fanatics that launched mass-slaughters, spilling into Muggle world."

"The bunker under the house proved worthless". She heard Minerva continued in a quiet voice; lilt thickening at the emotional disclosure. "Again, coincidental or not— the bombing started on a Sunday morning when they were at the church. I supposed it happened so fast that none of them managed to get out."

Hermione could feel the drifting sense from Minerva as the woman paused. For a moment she thought about what Minerva had said earlier about degrees of sorrow, of how one cannot compare, as one cannot underscore another's. She thought about the circumstances about her parents, versus Harry's, versus Minerva's. Can the gravity be measured in the context of _**recoverability**_ presented to the sufferer?

Did it matter that Harry had 10 years of ignorance about the murder of his parents. Does it matter that she had her own hand in erasing her parents' memories. What about for Minerva, did her grandfather's entry in her life give her a cushioned from the tragedy? But the next words from the older woman horrified her more than she was prepared for.

"Just before Hollow's eve, Albus had to call me to his office once again. My grandfather was just killed by Gellert's followers in an ambushed. Furthermore, my last living relative — a cousin whom I've never met, could not be located for quite sometime. Technically I had to be tuned-over to the Ministry being a minor, but Albus arranged that I stay at Hogwarts until the war is over and my cousin be found."

The enormous helplessness that flooded Hermione is indescribable. She could not help but raise their intertwining hands to her lips and kissed Minerva's knuckles. The older witch just gave a sad smile and continued disclosing events in her life; one Hermione could guess that _**had not been spoken**_ in decades.

"I honestly cannot remember how I reacted, but many years after when Albus and I first talked about that day, he said that I never said a word. However, we both could recall as clear as it was just yesterday how I knocked at his office the following day, to announce that _**I am joining**_ the mission to capture Grindelwald."

"You did what?" Hermione breathed, her eyes widened in mixed horror and admiration. A quick mental computation of _**how young**_ Minerva was at that particular period… a stunningly stubborn brave young Minerva.

"He was shocked that I knew the plans and got angry at my audacity. I never saw him angry before that, but instead of remembering my place – that I was a mere student, it only fuelled my own. I threatened that I would hunt Gellert myself and most probably get myself killed so he better just bring me in. I knew that despite having the information, Albus could very well not allow me. But then, we both knew I am bringing their plans an integral piece. "

Hermione could not believe the things that Minerva is revealing. She was trying to rummage bits of information about Minerva that she had _**read**_ and _ **heard**_ through the years. She had often wondered how Minerva had gotten her first Order of Merlin - First Class. She found no details except that it was because of her efforts during Grindelwald's war. The record had been categorically sealed, but it always bothered her when she factors Minerva's age.

"He brought the matter to the Minister and they discussed the repercussion of employing an underage in the capacity I was meant to, in a ruthless war no less. I just turned 14 years old, and while it would not strictly violate any Wizarding laws, the grayness of it may arise to too many issues, such as potential prosecution if details come out. But no one was saying that _ **my role**_ would not work. In the end, my _**ability was assessed as essential**_ and we were off to get Gellert."

"Is that why your heroic records are sealed?" Hermione saw the look of surprised on Minerva and she came forth honestly, "I looked, but could not find an iota of how you got your very first O.M., except that high-ranking Ministry Officers and war heroes involved in apprehending Grindelwald have stamped their attestation."

"Albus foresaw that if my role would indeed help capture Gellert, everyone involved would be effectively released of castigation - victory has the influence to excuse everything. Except me. I would be subjected under permanent 'scrutiny'. He was adamant that everyone involved make the unbreakable vow — of which can only be broken when two events make due. The first had long happened— I reaching considerable age. The second is upon Gellert's death."

"They say Voldemort killed him last year when he was looking for the elder wand? If true, the vow is done?"

"Yes and yes. And I believe there is only one wizard alive from the twenty-three who made the vow. Truthfully, the vow was almost irrelevant the last decade or so."

"Are you permitted to tell now? I mean, can you— will you tell me how you were essential to the mission?" Hermione asked tentatively, aware of the intrusion she is crossing but too curious not to probe.

"Even at that young age, I was already too adept with transfiguration. I could draw Gellert's attention to myself, which the mission requires."

"How?"

"I…" Minerva paused, and Hermione could see how the older woman is weighing her next words. "I was basically still a child but I could… _**wandlessly**_ _**and**_ _**wordlessly**_ … _ **transfigure myself into**_ … _**Obscurus**_."

"Obscurus!" Hermione gasped. "But you are not an actual Obscurial?"

"No. But Gellert had been searching for Obscurial that he could possess. And I could transfigure myself into a _**convincing**_ Obscurus and still have the control to cause staged havoc – exactly what attracts Gellert. And since I was in a vindictive state, my magic was swirled with enough hate that blinded him of the deception. Then as planned, Albus would capture him."

Hermione had read the account of the bloodbath that happened. How most wizards and witches that went with Dumbledore to trap Grindelwald had been severely wounded. That three even got killed because tenfold of supporters of Grindelwald showed up. Hermione's felt punches in her guts…her fast mind had immediately comprehended the unpublished part of the story - even before Minerva tells her.

"My role should have ended there, but duels erupted not just between Albus and Grindelwald. Out of nowhere, his fanatic followers emerged before I could leave. Albus bellowed to others to bring me into safety, but it was no use; multiple anti-apparations had been casted in the area. McKinnon tried to dismantle the wards to take me out, and that got him killed in the first minute. There was no choice but to fight…"

"My God…!" Hermione utters disbelievingly and her heart plunged into protest at the wrongness. Cold shivers running down her soul, twisting her guts further. The duel between Dumbledore and Grindelwald had become a saga that she heard be referred too many times. But never in her wildest notion that a 14-year-old Minerva had been part of the battle of where the said duel occurred…Fighting and killing for her own life.

"I just made my 7th kill - bleeding almost everywhere when Albus finally bested Gellert. He plucked me from the bedlam, ignoring to go after those scampering away."

"Oh Minerva…" Tears have started pouring out from Hermione's brown eyes from the devastating history of Minerva. And the fact that the woman suffered another two wars is already making her hurled at the unthinkable torment.

"That's the first war for me. It costs me my family and my innocence. And left me long scar from here to here." Minerva pointed to left side of her stomach and drawing a horizontal line to the other.

The withering chronicle from Minerva had taken her in darken plight. Her thoughts are telling her that had it been her, she would have no chance at salvation. And she told the older woman exactly so. In response, she felt Minerva tightened their clasped hands, watched through tearful eyes how this time, the woman was the one who brushed her knuckles to thin lips.

"I also didn't think I would get past the experience. It had been— difficult. But it came eventually. And as luck would have it— if you can associate the term _**luck**_ to such; there was a long interval between Gellert's and Tom's war. Had the latter rolled in without my head screwed in, surely I would not have lasted year 1970 - year one of Tom's first war."

Hermione shook her head in rejection of the suppositions. Her mind and heart would not accept the idea of not meeting the older witch, 21 years after that year.

On the other hand, Minerva, already buried in her reverie, carried on unveiling the scars that she had asked about.

"Tom took away my remaining family that year. Malcolm eventually turned out after Gellert's imprisonment. But he married a Muggle and lived in Muggle London with his son. Paranoid borne of the first war, he actually changed his surname into McGregor. Only in Hogwarts that his son Maddock used McGonagall.

The night the three of them were killed, Maddock had just returned to London for the summer break. They were out in the restaurant to celebrate the award he got playing for Gryffindor quidditch team. It was unfortunately; one of the early death-eaters attacks on Muggles. They told me that my cousin and nephew instead of running to safety, both drew their wands to protect Muggles against the attackers, which turned out to be too many for the two of them."

Suddenly, Hermione's mind pulled out an image of her with Harry and Ron at the trophy room looking at James Potter's gold plated inscription as seeker, that beside it was another plate with M.G McGonagall. She inwardly shook her head from side to side for committing a blatant missed-out of detail attachment about Minerva. Then as quickly, she was reminded of the devastating fact that he was one of the last relative of the older witch. Her heart compressed further at another _**scar**_ exposed to her by Minerva.

"Apart from my remaining family, I also lost too many dozens of friends. I even bore witness of their deaths during many blasted battles with death-eaters. One of my assignments from the Order of the Phoenix was to trail after former workers at MLE to determine if they have been under Imperio. If so, counter the curse before any fights erupted. Unfortunately there were times that I was forced to duel with friends before I could release them from the curse. That I _**had**_ to hurt them so they won't kill me."

_**Had to hurt friends**_. The endless vile things that Minerva had laid bare is making Hermione heaved. She thought of her friends, especially Harry and Ron – of needing to hurt them, and the concept is sickening to her. To curse back at enemies is never that simple - no matter how evil they are, but to fight own friends lest be killed by them is being in another inner circle of hell.

In an aching voice, Minerva continued her revelation. "The wretched eleven years were also far too long not to create vacuum of too many second-guessing… Of which actions could have changed course of things... prevented deaths… saved students and friends. Do you know that suppositions bring equal range of nightmares? A recurring of mine is of the time I left Fabian and Gideon to answer Albus' patronus charm, to hurry to St. Mungos. He and Amelia have been surrounded by death-eaters as they protected healers and patients. I would never know if by not going to them Molly would not have lost her brothers, as I would have been an extra wand— or I would have perished with them…"

The memory proved to be too sorrowful for Minerva. A lone tear breaking out from her anguished emerald eyes, Hermione involuntarily shifted herself and pulled the woman to lie down beside her. She understood the torment of second-guessing. She and Harry had even turned the compunction as part of their regular pastime while out on the run. It does give a person the type of scars that weren't there but one could see the ugliness. One could feel the burning pain. With lacerations far too deep than physical ones...

"Year after year, and duel after duels, I was convinced I would not make it. Albus and I taking turn, or together fighting or killing death-eaters that somehow we know were once our eager students. Even with their hoods and masks, the flicks of wrists were familiar; the voices reminded us how they answered in class. Every ordeal was unbearable. It was beyond me how I survived that war… More so to experience a third one… and survived it as well. Albus leaving me… I thought how he drew the shorter - or longer stick in a game called dying or suffering …"

The bleakness in Minerva became so pronounced that Hermione felt feeble to do, or to say other than "I am sorry."

Minerva took a deep breath, one that came from the deepest recesses of her weary soul. "There was no other McGonagall to be killed this last war. But it took away two closest people to me. Albus and Amelia. Both very dear to me like a family."

"Amelia Bones?" Hermione wanted to say she didn't know that Minerva and the deceased MLE Head were friends. But she realized how assuming that would sound. Then long stored information inserted into her brain, Susan Bones once swearing that their Transfiguration Professor is not as stoic outside Hogwarts.

"Aye. But we became friends at the end of her second year and I was then a fifth year… I last saw her several days after Harry's hearing. I went to question the irregularity of the full hearing for mere underage use of magic, one casted to defend one's life. I also wanted to correct the wrong information circulating about Albus. I asked her to be very cautious because Voldemort is back…that it was just a matter of time before officers like her would be in peril."

Hermione remembers how the Wizarding world taunted Harry and Dumbledore for sounding Voldemort's return after Diggory died at the tri-wizard. That summer, she hated keeping secrets from Harry but abided with Dumbledore's instruction. The confusing time surely started that school break.

"We didn't part on good footing; she was insisting that the Ministry would not disturb peace and cause panic without proof, hence inciting that we… Albus… Hogwarts are the ones making the trouble. I walked out of her house and slammed her door but not before I spat out that she had lost her brains for sitting too long at the Ministry. Few months later, when death-eaters killed her on her way home, she just came from St. Mungos— they told me she sat beside my bed for 5 hours. I was still unconscious. I only found out she was killed several days after I was released."

Could things be more difficult for Minerva...? Hermione sigh in sorrow.

"Oh Hermione, it was the same with Albus. I felt like I was stabbed repeatedly when he died. You see, I just figured out pieces of his plan and confronted him. For the first time in probably 50 years, he was not forthcoming. I was livid at him and storm out. How could I know that it was the last time I would see him alive…? If only— I know he has his portrait… but of course it's not the same."

"You miss him."

"Aye… He is— was my best friend. Except for about five years after I finished school, he had been in my life since I was 12 years old… _**meddling**_ in it." Minerva let out a torn chuckle and another lone tear rolled down her face.

Hermione brushed a thumb to wipe the streak. She thought of the image of Minerva with steady hand as she pointed her wand to Voldemort, against shaking Minerva when she pointed it upwards after Dumbledore's funeral.

When Dumbledore died, it felt like the pillar under the entire wizarding world had collapsed. Only six years of knowing the man as a prominent figure, his death already gave Hermione's heart painful constrictions. How unbearable it must have been for Minerva? The woman, more than anyone else, may have been the one who had lost most. More than anyone could guess.

Hermione think back how many of the students considered that the then Headmaster and his Deputy a longtime couple. In some ways they truly are—were. She had seen the dynamics that most referred to; as Albus Dumbledore would be kept in track at just one look from Minerva McGonagall. Most are convinced that they have more than professional relationship, as no one gets away silently chastising the greatest wizard just like that. On the other hand, adults' opinions are way opposing regarding the 'couple'.

Sirius said that they coded McGonagall as M.D. (Minerva Dumbledore) when they would try to sneak out of the Gryffindor Tower. But as many adults also swore that it was never as such… Mrs. Weasley vehemently shook her head telling Ron it isn't so. Once, when she fished the info from Professor Vector, she was just laughed at. She couldn't be sure if she caught the Arithmancy Professor correctly but she heard her mumbled something like— _**a most contradiction**_. Hermione for one never thought so… But it was obvious that it was out of personal want, for it not to be.

"You love him? She heard herself asked Minerva before she could think about the question.

"I do. Very much." Emerald eyes took hold of her brown ones. "In the same depth that you love Harry."

She understood that the woman suggested friendship. Unless Minerva thinks she loves Harry like a lover— No! Her mind injected, like how you would like to love Minerva. She cleared a suddenly scratchy throat and said, "People thought…" but unable really to say the word _**lover**_ to the woman, she hanged the statement.

"I know. We know..." responded Minerva in a tone of resignation. "It started year one I taught Transfiguration. People could not believe I turned down a promotion at the Ministry for a teaching post and concluded that it was about Albus. I did object that time, but the following year and the many years after, I did not bother."

Hermione did read about Minerva's outstanding work at the Ministry. The woman tirelessly revised and re-established considerable provisions and regulations at MLE all of which were deserted during the chaos of Grindelwald war. The five-year stint proved to be one of the most notable career-rise for a young witch. And Minerva was indeed promoted to MLE Deputy, but a week into the position, she tendered a resignation much to their colleagues' shock. Then a daily prophet publication approximately a month after, reported that Minerva McGonagall replaces Dumbledore for Transfiguration teaching post as the latter was selected as Headmaster of Hogwarts.

At the end of her thoughts, Hermione unconsciously voiced out. "You did not see the obligation to explain your choices."

"Albus would urge me to help him dispel it, but because his motivation is not of professional implication anyway, I just ignored it all— ignored him— much to his exasperation. Only one I ever caused him against the numerous ones he caused me. Eventually he really accepted that it doesn't matter to me, he then started to ignore it as well. Incorrigibly, he would exploit it at times when he wants to make ruckus."

"Was he always so eccentric?"

"More so as he got more old." Minerva laughed softly, evidently thinking of Dumbledore's whimsical nature.

"Ron always said that you and Dumbledore paint a strange picture. And it's a shame— " Hermione stopped mid-word and bit her lip at her slipped.

When she did not continue, Minerva tugged one of her hands in question. She slowly shook her head but Minerva tugged her hand again so she unsurely relented. "Ron maintained that you are secretly married. How it's a shame the two of you don't have children, as it would be waste of powerful magical genes." She hastily mumbled most of the sentence.

"A notion he obviously got from his brothers. They told me so one time as they tried to free themselves from detention; how Albus and my daughter would have been a Transfiguration prowess."

Hermione's mind exploded with questions, _why did Minerva never marry_? _Or did she_? _To whom_? But instead she asked, "Why did Dumbledore never got married?"

At the look that Minerva gave her, she feared that Minerva actually could read her true question - ' _Were_ _ **YOU**_ _ever married_?'

"He could not marry the love of his life." Minerva eventually responded.

Hermione's eyes widened. Dumbledore was in-love with someone? And could not marry the person! "Why?" she asked Minerva. Her curiosity is unmistakable and hesitation forgone.

Minerva's forefinger touched her nose and simply said, "I'd have imagined that you would have caught on why."

Hermione face contorted in confusion. Minerva expected her to have discovered the reason why Dumbledore never got married? With the love of his life? How come? Automatically, her deductive reason switched on and crunched through details, starting with what makes her susceptible to know.

"You think I've read it? Why Dumbledore was not married?"

Minerva's face dons a pleased expression, which confirmed that she had a partially correct inference. She could also see a bit of deliberation going inside the older woman's head, clearly weighing what to tell her. "Albus gave it away through one of his testimonies."

"Surely they were not written down in plain words nor spoken as such." She utters, more to herself than to Minerva and went through the list of Dumbledore's various trial involvements. "The most published and most controversial one is that of Grindelwald."

"One I am certain that you have read." Minerva confirmed the direction of her thoughts, one she did not realized she voiced out loud.

Hermione mentally recalled the transcript she read about that trial. She couldn't remember ever words of course but she searched for any reference to intimacy, personal, passion, or affection— love.

_Wizengamot: Even being noted as the most powerful wizard, one that could definitely defeat Grindelwald, which you've done so— why did it take you so long to intervened? Were you covertly harboring support for his crusade?_

_Albus Dumbledore: I would never condone acts of oppression. My lack of action stemmed from fear._

_Wizengamot: Then why eventually agreed with Minister_ _Leonard Spencer-Moon to join the hunt_ _?_

_Albus Dumbledore:_ _I thought of my dead sister— Ariana. And I realized how I am failing her. I have become paralyzed. Instead of allowing love to make me wiser… how it was blinding me... keeping me from doing the right thing… regardless how disheartening._

_she would have been ashamed of me that I let fear paralyzed me. I could hear her say that love is supposed to make a person wiser… not be blinded with fear… to do the right thing… regardless how disheartening._

Hermione picked some significant words- Fear… Love… Wiser… Blinded… Right thing… Disheartening…

Hermione gasped. "Grindelwald!" She realized that she almost shouted what she just said and tone down, "Albus loves—loved Gellert."

"He did." Minerva quietly confirmed.

Hermione focused her gaze back to green eyes, of which reflecting great deal of cautiousness. They were no doubt gauging her reaction, waiting more of what she will say about what she just discovered… about two of the most powerful wizards… And the tragedy of it.

"Dumbledore is— was gay."

Minerva merely nodded. Hermione understood how the older witch is probably assessing any signs of diminished regard she has towards Albus Dumbledore. She shook her head in disbelief at both the revelation and Minerva's doubts. She was constructing on how to convey her sentiment without giving away intimation of her personal identity when out of blue, she was reminded of a forgotten bet she made.

The Weasley twins bet against her that Dumbledore could not be gay. This was long before she herself had realized of the same thing about herself. The only reason that she took the bet was because she found the twins' supporting argument too unsound… of how Dumbledore can't be gay as there is no evidence that he is. George and Fred owe her two dozens of butterbeers… But Fred… Fred is gone.

As much as she tried to hold it in, the tears that had already dried from her eyes had return. They rapidly slide down her face as uninvited memories of the twins barged through her mind. She started spilling her scattered thoughts to Minerva about Fred and George… or George and Fred.

The twins' smiling faces attacked her mind. Their antics to make her laugh when she had the polyjuice accident, letting her forget her unwanted tail. Or when they squeezed her in an embrace after the Yule ball to comfort her. She was then too angry with Ron for ruining her night and at Harry for being so clueless about all of it. But the twins took her for a walk to come down, again making her laugh. But now… there will never be Fred and George. Fred is gone. And George is too lost.

More tears streamed down her already wet cheeks and she made to swipe them away. She focused on emerald eyes that she could no longer see clearly from the stinging in her eyes. Hermione fought with everything she had to keep from falling into hysterical crying, from collapsing once again. Fought for clarity. Fought for a glimpse of salvation.

"I am out of my mind. " Hermione growled in defeat.

"So am I darling. Like the rest who just gotten out of war. For a while, it's harder to breathe… Harder to sleep… Harder to eat… Harder to be awake…"

"How long does this last?"

"It does end. But I will not lie to you, it will not arrive without you moving towards it."

"How could I get out of this absurd situation… where I detonate without warning…?" Asked Hermione desperately.

"You have to want to take back your life. Take control of it. Work hard for it. Hopefully one morning you wake up in a life almost as how it was supposed to be."

"How did you?"

"Less than 48 hours after infant Harry trounced Tom, Albus and I immediately delved into rebuilding the school. Staffing open posts and visiting students to return… I supposed that would be the same avenue of _**salvation**_ for me." _Without Albus._ Two words Minerva did not say but Hermione knew for certain that were uttered inside the older woman's head. "And this time, I have a castle to re-build… Quite literally."

"I want to help repair Hogwarts."

"I know darling. But that's mine to take on. But you… you have to resume your life. One that had been suspended since last year."

A suspended life— one that in principle would not resume without Minerva in it. Salvation for Hermione is Minerva. She remembers her earlier thoughts about accepting whatever capacity the older woman extends to her. Or should she work towards attempting to be worthy of the woman?

She repeated her haphazard drafted list— Parents, NEWTS, Job, Mastery, Place to live, Projects to take on….

Then perhaps due to the draining emotional rollercoaster and or pure physical tiredness, plus Minerva's restarted soothing stroking of her hair… Hermione could not help but fluttered her eyes close.

* * *

\- End of chapter 6

\- Scars, Sorrows and Salvation

* * *

* * *

AN

Several things:

I have to distort several information. Absolutely no disrespect to JK I just have to fit them into my story.

-Minerva's year of birth to 1930 instead of 1935 and her year at Hogwarts to match her 'heroism' on Grindelwald war. Or just ignore math and charge it to literary liberty.

-I have decided that McGonagall is her mother's maiden name, a wizard family name that passed on for generations. Will try to insert explanations down the story.

-I am completely erasing Elphinstone Urquart (wizard husband) and Dougal McGregor (muggle fiancé)

-Uber boosting her transfiguration magical skill. Anyway, she was transfigurng toys already when she was a baby per JK.

-Amelia Bones in Hogwarts around the same time Minerva was a student.


	7. The Very First One

**Year 1998 | 1st Seventh of May**

**Still the same evening**

* * *

For the third time that night, in a faint lighted room, Hermione opened her eyes in disorientation. She yanked in a semi-sitting position as the classical designed bedchamber instead of her old familiar bedroom at their house in London registered her consciousness. Instant panic reigned in for a moment, but only for a moment as she had forgotten her whereabouts.

But her brain quickly coped with her surroundings as she listed the obvious quality of the room's columns and panels, and brought reconciliation of her present state.

She settled her head back unto the pillow, wondered what woke her up and at the same time realised her earlier apparent surrender to sleep- while she was talking to Minerva…

The very witch whose emerald eyes clouded with concern roused her from unconsciousness – twice.

_**Minerva.** _

When she turned on her side, her nose caught the lingering scent of olive left on the pillow her face is pressed upon.

_**Minerva.** _

Inadvertently, a sigh from the deepest core of Hermione's soul came through as the entirety of the last few hours prances in her mind… conflicting with her resolutions... colliding with implications… clashing with her heart's desire… and fastening her entirety with one woman...

_**Minerva.** _

Not in a million years Hermione could have imagined that there will be a time that she would faint in Minerva's metaphorical arms at a ruined Hogwarts no less. And wake up in one of the bedchambers at McGonagall's Manor. She did not even know there is a McGonagall Manor! It was surely one of those things she never found from the several books, (and several is quite understated) or articles she came across that featured the woman. In fact, she realised just now that there is a misleading reference to Hogwarts as the woman's only place of abode.

Hermione didn't know as well that it was ever possible to be eating in bed with the ever-formal woman she had watched countlessly at the dining hall at Hogwarts. That even Albus Dumbledore cannot escape receiving reproach for his comics during mealtimes by his then Deputy - the woman who in contrast had casually schemed her into finally eating by sharing a plate with her... and drinking from one glass...

Who would have known that her boggart admission would ever make the woman laugh fervently? And laughed to the point of affecting her emerald eyes to sparkle with joyful amusing tears. That was not the stern Transfiguration Professor she was accustomed with. Six years at school and she could not remember a single moment she had seen the woman do more than twitch the corner of her lips in amusement.

Hermione didn't know that she'd ever hear the woman profess her desire to be with her, okay, granted to be with her for protection, and not only her – but with Harry and Ron… to protect them during their horcrux hunt. Hermione will never forget the regretful pained expression on the witch's face during admittance for not being with them.

Hermione was also unfamiliar with the woman who had awakened her with tender petition when sleep had thrown her into another replayed episode of hell during their captivity at the Malfroy's. The clipped, no nonsense Scottish tone is what she was used to hear at Hogwarts. Completely far from the gentle pleading voice that moored her with sense of security and pulled her away from the nightmare.

Hermione was not acquainted with the woman who lovingly held her when the dam of sorrows inside her broke down, flooded her emotions from the sufferings of the war. She was used to the physical detachment employed by their Head of House that while concern would sound off with Scottish brogue, the woman never betrayed her strict countenance when she dealt with them. Hence to be carried by pale but strong arms of the emerald-eyed witch was unthinkable. To be caressed in earnest was inconceivable.

Hermione had read about the Minerva McGonagall war heroine and many of her career accolades, but she would never have guessed the severity of wounds and sufferings that the woman had endured for the two – now three wars. That this woman would pull open her own scars; expose private details just to reach out to her… to band with her in her desolate state. And anchored her in.

Certainly Hermione is not familiar with the very demonstrative Minerva who was introduced to her tonight… the intimate Minerva that she spent the earlier part of the evening. No doubt that here in her home, the public persona was shed... this is the private Minerva unknown to most... kept hidden...

But really, Hermione had long guessed that behind her damnable walls, Minerva is so much more.. Kind... generous... loving... And beautiful... And very brave...

And while bravery is one unsurprising dominant value of their Gryffindor head, it is almost incomprehensible how truly brave the witch is... the woman is almost unbelievably brave. And strong.

Merlin, at 14 years old – the witch had redefined the concept of courage and strength. When Minerva revealed her sorrows, her pain, Hermione cannot see frailty, instead her belief of the witch's strength merely reasserted. Of how overpoweringly strong — that storms have no chance to drench the woman. That lighting cannot strike the witch. And the sun would fail to burn Minerva McGonagall.

Hermione could not help but get drunk with the woman's gloriousness. A couple of hours spent in admittance inside the older witch's damn impregnable walls, and she already found herself euphorically chained furthermore.

A muggle writer – Agatha Christie, once penned the phrase ' _ **Very few of us are what we seem**_ '. That would have been an understatement of epic proportion when associated with the complexity of Minerva McGonagall. The kind that no one could ever imagined.

The woman is a walking masterpiece – but why not as pronounced as before? The answer is simple; she had long mastered erecting her walls. And she had strategically stayed behind them. Then until recently, her dominant cover was one Albus Dumbledore.

By choice, by chance, by circumstances, it mattered little. Minerva seemed to have contentedly settled into second of Dumbledore – even stood far behind the wizard.

But now that her cloak is dead—gone, the grandeur is seeping out… Had seeped out actually from the time the woman raised her wand to defend Hogwarts less than a week ago. Her answer to the call of the circumstances required her to be who she really is– a leader fighting for the light. And because the woman would never choose cowardice, some veil needed to be dropped... Thus finally let them bear witness to such Gryffindor— and the magnificence is irrefutable!

Hermione's fast working brain could easily guess which blanket Minerva would now enshroud herself with. That instead of choosing to ride to the top of the majestic position, she is certain that Minerva would employ Hogwarts as substitution to Dumbledore. The woman would make it all about the school, the staff, the students, the former students—consequently almost every magical person... except herself.

But Hermione can easily see that even with the domineering castle, without the convenience of staying behind Dumbledore, the prevalent pronouncement of the woman's entirety is inevitable. This time, it would unravel with certainty for everyone not to recognise.

Somehow, it already commenced with the woman decisions and actions during the battle, more so mere minutes after the battle. The manner she carried the war-torn Wizarding community on her shoulders when most were lost naturally unleashed the true Minerva McGonagall— a powerful and brilliant witch.

If one would just be perceptive enough, one would recognise that while books have described her magical capabilities as one not lacking in proficiency, it must be so much more as there were always talks of the woman's core magic to be so much more. And how it must not be just talks - but with strong basis as Albus Dumbledore had always given Minerva such regard.

She is a masterpiece indeed... The woman had just chosen to work behind the curtain - because she could afford so with Dumbledore around...

Hermione's awareness of the exquisiteness and vastness of the older woman grew into a level she is unprepared but very much willing to know, even thirsty to know. With the glimpse she had— from the battle, from the events right after the battle, and most particularly from tonight- she cannot be more positive that the woman is so much more underneath. She could feel it in her bones that she barely scratched the surface.

But along with it is the knowledge that getting to know and witnessing facets of Minerva is like scaling a fortress… You have to brave the unchartered terrain, trudge forth… brick by brick. And bloody hell she wants to learn more of the woman who had long captured her heart. She needs more.

**So much more of Minerva.**

And heavens help her as she could not think of better way to spend her life but dive into the depth of the character of the woman. Even if she weren't as deeply in love with Minerva, now she would not know how to not love the woman – not at this point.

 _It's not fair, what chance do I have to be liberated from this?_ The questions slammed into her mind, heart and soul.

 _How could I be more in-love with the woman than I was yesterday?_ Hermione defenselessly admitted in her heart.

Fear grappled her. Half in knowing that there will be no one else she'll ever love as much. And the other half from the fueling courage coursing inside her to make due of a promise she made during the war – **give her heart's desire full reverence no matter what.**

'Bloody hell... Either way I'm doomed. She concluded desperately.

Hermione turned on her other side; away from the side of the pillow that Minerva had lain to dispel the intoxicating scent, she needed to seek some sort of clarity from the mess her heart and mind had taken residence.

On the other side of the room, which she had earlier discounted is another door - one that is currently ajar.

Whether by fate… by coincidence… that door had led her into a relatively small receiving room… a kind of a connecting room to another bedchamber — Minerva's bedroom.

Its door is likewise ajar, and with the sky's natural light streaming from the partially drawn curtain of the windows, Hermione could see the large bed— where the older woman is sleeping.

From her position at the doorway, Hermione's heart clenched at the sight. Undoubtedly, every second spent even just within the vicinity of Minerva only led her into deeper breadth of attachment… One she willingly drowns herself in… Filling her lungs of Minerva with every breath she takes.

Hermione did not know what made her move forward into the room, but not even three steps from entering, Hermione was stunned that Minerva had roused in alarm– already wand on hand in seemingly split second. And as swiftly, the fir dragon heartstring was lowered upon recognition that it was no enemy attacking.

"Is everything alright?" asked Minerva in soft but audible Scottish brogue in concern.

Hermione could see that the alarm on the older woman's face has retreated, and obvious worry replaced it. She could also see how the witch blinked the last of drowsiness and focused on her after the well-used wand was put away on the bedside table and somehow settled back into bed.

On the other hand, Hermione felt like few seconds have been fast-forwarded and lost on her when she felt her hip pressed with the woman's side. It is only then did she realise that her feet had carried her further into the room unknowingly. Then sat down on the bed. Vaguely, she thought of how she is mirroring the way Minerva had sat with her earlier. And how this time, the older woman is the one lying in bed.

"I'm sorry I woke you up."

"It's not important. Did you have another nightmare?" The woman waved her hand to magically gauge time then uttered, "It's not even eleven o'clock – you barely had two hours sleep." Gentle but worried voice asked Hermione, "You can't sleep anymore?"

She slowly shook her head in an answer but unable to say anything. She knew that she is staring too hard but she could not help herself. Seeing Minerva for the first time with her luxuriant black hair spread on the pillow and slightly tousled from sleep is entrancing to say the least. The other woman's face is clearly devoid of any concealment charms and Hermione is struck with how breathtakingly beautiful the woman is. She always thought that the witch employs some sort of de-glamour spells. But now devoid of them, she had correctly proven so... Oh Salazar, the Slytherins truly have no idea how accurate they are of how Minerva is defying elementals.

At her astonished state, Hermione had almost missed out of what the woman was saying.

"…Strangely with the war over, sleep is so much harder to find than during the actual war. The terror will continue to hunt each of us for quite some time, some longer or worse than others… but no matter what, we can get past it if we persevere."

Minerva reached out to one of her hands, and impulsively interlaced their fingers, clasped them in a tight and familiar gesture.

"We just need to grab on what we think that could anchor us onward."

She comprehended that Minerva is still doing her best to ease her distress, obviously to convey assurance, and deliver some kind of aspiration. Hermione nodded to acknowledge the expressed statement. But then she wondered about the significance of their intertwined hands in reference to the profound counsel— _**'grab on what we could anchor us'**_ …

And wondered if Minerva had noted of it…

"After surviving Grindelwald's war, or even the first of Tom Riddle's, when you had to move forward, did you… did you do the things you promised yourself — if you ever come out alive?

Hermione is too aware of what she is currently setting herself with that question… Building herself a window, a platform, or a launching board to jump into the abyss.

"Most of what I needed to. And some of what I wanted to." Minerva responded while in apparent reflection. "Hermione, even without the war, we still have to assess the things that we think we need, and the things that we feel that we want."

 _Hermione thought of what she needs... Or is it_ _**who** _ _she needs— Minerva._

 _Hermione thought of what she wants... Or is it_ _**who** _ _she wants— Minerva._

To fight against what she feels for the woman is like swimming against the tide, the tide of loving the woman… the tide that would only have her drown. She's an idiot for falling in love with the woman. And possibly the biggest idiot to consider that she can work about _**un-loving**_ the woman. What a bullshit resolution as she knows she has no chance of success. None at all.

"There are some things that are as undoable whether you are in a war or not. But those you could, especially if you need to, or sometimes you want to with ever fiber of your being… perhaps you just have to do so... or else, they say what is the point of breathing?"

Hermione heard Minerva's pronouncement and it drove her into an ultimatum...

Powerless to employ intelligence, she surrenders...

To love Minerva is insanity… but loving Minerva could not be more logical for Hermione. Because she is so certain that if she does not try- she fears the craving will only carve herself empty...

She finally reached that place of knowing nothing else but thrusting herself into the abyss…

"Could things be that simple?"

"Sometimes they could be. Sometimes they never are." Minerva answered her question, a question Hermione did not realise that she had voiced out.

Her big brain made one feeble attempt to stop her plummeting. It told her that the woman was referring to a different frame of context. That the veteran war survivor was apparently pointing to her earlier posted question of war aftermath... of surviving... But it was no use.

Her brain had shut down...

And her soul ripped wide open...

Hermione went forth and plunged into the unknown and trailed after the beating of her heart…

_**She loves Minerva.** _

_**She needs Minerva.** _

_**She wants Minerva.** _

Hermione's unoccupied left hand purposely travelled the length of Minerva's right arm to the woman's jaw, and then held smooth check in caress.

Minerva's eyes widened at the boldness… Countenance immediately turned into a grievous questioning one. But Hermione held the gaze and let the older woman search for the answers she knew were being sought...

_'Yes, I know what I am doing. I am of age. I am no longer your student. And what is the point of breathing if not to go after what we want, what we need?'_

She couldn't tell how long that moment of searching went on but she could tell that Minerva had found and convinced of the silent answers when her emerald eyes shifted into a glassy darker shade, and intuitively uttered her name in breathless whisper, "Hermione…"

Bewilderment… Arousal… Affection… Fear… All at once they flashed on the beautiful face of Minerva McGonagall.

Certainty… Arousal… Affection… Courage… All of them settled into Hermione's soul.

Hermione bent down and her plush lips pressed down on thin lips in the lightest of contact - just the slightest. Then she had their noses softly rubbed before she withdrew and gave space… But one of her hands indulged in the strands of black hair around the older witch's temple… and their still intertwined fingers loosened as Hermione's thumb reverently stroke Minerva's palm…

The gentle actions are quite maddening to Hermione as they are in absolute contrast to the powerful need coursing in her to ravish the older woman, but she employed patience and control. Although her actions were not pushed away, she is aware that she cannot discount that they are precariously at a precipice.

Suspended.

Even with the incredible sensation already spinning all over her, she gave Minerva time; time to be definite with her own response. Though her eyes, which had turned into whiskey-colored ones, firmly held emerald eyes— which are currently tentative ones in apparent uproar. And she willed the woman who had seized her heart to fathom that it's hers. Actually had been hers for quite sometime.

"May I kiss you again?" Hermione whispered in yearning but remained unmoving… waiting for acceptance.

When emeralds left her brown eyes and travelled to her lips, Hermione made a move for a second kiss, but stopped mid-way and breathed with equal yearning, "Will you kiss me back Minerva?"

Both of them seemed to have stopped breathing... Poised at the very brink… Hermione lost track how long they were frozen at that juncture… Until Minerva's hand had reached up to her neck, and drew her close. Finally responded to the intimacy.

They met for a kiss.

One that was asked and answered…

One that also started the hammering in Hermione's heart into a thundering rave. Yet astoundingly fashioning the long-awaited contentment in Hermione's soul.

When they parted for a final-final check, pure desire reflected in emeralds; of the very same degree that Hermione knew reflected in hers.

Intuitively, Hermione raised her body, climbed over Minerva's and completely crashed their lips into another kiss. The feeling had fuelled Hermione for more bold movements, so she probed open the older woman's lips. When the latter acquiesced, Hermione felt a shudder ran through her. And at the first touch of their tongues, for unexplained reasons, they felt like old acquaintances greeting each other.

The burning that Hermione felt with the realisation of what is definitively within her grasp is threatening at an accelerated speed to pounce on Minerva, but she is determined to cherish each moment.

She put a grip on her inclination to magically banish the clothes presently hindering her pursuit to learn every millimeter of Minerva's body. She elected to savour each button untagged with her own hands, followed by her lips on each revealed skin— one she truly longs to see and touch, but she never even dared imagine before.

After Hermione pushed the material away from Minerva's smooth shoulders, she briefly dazed out caused by the naked chest in front of her. She almost jumped when Minerva pulled her pajama top, removed it over her head, completely bypassed the buttons and confidently crushed their bare upper bodies together that elicited groans from both.

They captured back each other's lips, but this time their kisses have become long deep savouring ones… Tasting each other like they would never have enough…

Their eyes fluttered closed despite their intent to gaze at each other… Hermione knew that these exquisite moments are now burnt into her mind, heart and soul.

"Hermione…?" asked Minerva in thick Scottish burr that sent shivers down Hermione's spine. But with the urge she also heard the supplication for a pause, and so she dragged her lips away. Definitely shaking from the sensation, she pressed her lips on Minerva's temple; not giving more than that for a disconnection.

"Darling…" Hermione lips curved into a smile when she felt Minerva's equally shaking passion. The normally eloquent woman is currently having difficulty piercing her words into a sentence. "…Darling tell me, tell me that…that you're certain of—"

"Without a doubt Minerva." Hermione re-affirmed immediately. Not even letting the voiced concern be completed. She trailed her lips at Minerva's jaw, before she moved to elegant neck, and sucked on the found pulse point. She heard the heavy groan from the older witch and this pushed her own craving in surging warmth. And greedily take more of Minerva.

With milky white chest unveiled to her, Hermione touched and kissed it with tenderness. She gave adulation to the strangely quite faded scars from the stunning spells endured by the woman only just a year ago. Most if not all had heard of the incident; how it had seemed impossible for anyone to survive fours spells. But Minerva did. Hermione's heartbeat ran a little faster at the realisation that now, she is the one kissing these scars.

Her mouth travelled downwards, wanting to taste more. One of Minerva's hands running through her brown hair tightened when she took one breast into her mouth. Learning fast in pleasuring the woman for each passing second, Hermione took one nipple and rolled it against her tongue and gently pulled it with her teeth. She felt Minerva's other hand that has been skimming her back clawed her a little, raised the hairs on her skin with the stimulating touch.

Hermione devoured at Minerva's other breast before she continued moving down the body of the woman. Making her head spin faster… with no other thoughts but Minerva… More of Minerva.

She reverently caressed another scar, one across tone abdomen, one accounted for that bloodbath during Grindelwald's capture. Light kisses she rained on it and had her tongue ran back and forth at it; an injury long healed that is now just a faint white line, far from the grievous injury described, nonetheless an evidence of the woman's bravery.

Hermione removed the rest of the woman's clothes and skimmed her hands along smooth strong legs, and settled herself between them. It caused the older woman to flush deeper, and had her elegant hands clenching the sheets.

Hermione dived at Minerva's apex, her fingers fluttered across the hairs and her senses leapt into that exhilarated state. Quite urgently she felt thirst like never before at the display before her face. She could not go any slower and had to have more of Minerva. She took a single long lick and grinned maddeningly when Minerva's body instantaneously lifted in tremors.

**This is what she was meant to do— love Minerva.**

Hermione finally permitted herself to be lost in the scent, taste and feel of Minerva. Kissing and nipping and licking… Absorbing Minerva… Somewhat battling for control not to ravage the woman… She let her entire body follow what it always wanted to do— be with Minerva.

Tentatively Hermione started tracing Minerva most sensitive parts with her fingers, and groaned with the older woman at the found moisture. Likewise, she felt unfamiliar but delicious warmth and dampness spreading between her own legs; consequence of pleasuring Minerva. The sensation finally took over and Hermione found herself returning into tasting the love of her life together with her fingers now entering and withdrawing in earnest.

When she looked up at the older woman's face, she was spellbound by the exquisiteness of her expression, and only roused from the deliciousness of it all when she heard Minerva uttered her name in her heavy ancestry, accompanied by a Gaelic phrase that she filed into her brain to check its translation.

When the woman started to thrash her body erratically, Hermione doubled her exertion in giving the woman pleasure. Then several ragged heartbeats later, Hermione unreservedly witnessed the perpetually stoic Minerva McGonagall shattered that common depiction as the woman was tipped over the edge. Hermione had never seen anything so beautiful.

As Minerva came down from euphoria, Hermione climbed back up, and returned into brushing raven locks at the temple with one free hand. Contentment unfelt before just schooled Hermione that no book she rather commit to her big brain than the features and expression of Minerva at the moment. And when Minerva opened her eyes; Hermione was treated with the most glorious shade of green.

At her elated state, combined with much desire still coursing through her being, Hermione watched emeralds darkened after she pulled her fingers, instinctively lifted them to her mouth and sucked Minerva's luscious remnants. Before Hermione could voice out that she wants more of the woman, Minerva reached for said fingers and directed them into her own mouth and sucked them herself. Hermione swore that there is a direct line from her fingertips to her lower belly as her arousal propelled to unknown degree caused by such actions.

As Minerva licked her fingers and pierced her emerald eyes into hers, Hermione felt another arm secured her waist and be flipped over. In her haze, she couldn't make out what the other woman had murmured but when she was pressed into the mattress, and felt her naked lower body collided with Minerva's, then she understood that the rest of her clothing was magically banished by the witch.

"Gods Minerva!" Hermione gasped and moaned subsequently when teeth nipped her ear, and tongue outlined her jaw down her neck.

The sensation has now flooded Hermione and escalated furthermore when she felt her breasts have become Minerva's center of concentration; tongues and hands started licking, sucking, rubbing, and brushing them. She writhed in the sweetest torture and had bitten her lower lip in an effort to stop the full scream wanting to tear out of her throat, which made her shake almost violently in awakening.

At an uncertain point, Hermione dragged her eyes open and almost came at the sight of Minerva McGonagall in rapture as the woman feasted on her breast. Vaguely she realised that she had grabbed one of Minerva's pale hands and unsurely pushed it down her tummy and subsequently parted her legs. When the woman palmed her, she could not help the ragged breath she expelled and the lurched of her hips upward.

Then she heard a chuckle from Minerva whose lips traveled back into her neck up to her ear, and resumed sucking the skin behind it. Wet tongue also snaked insider her ear, almost mirroring the ministrations employed down at her bud. The torturous pace that the woman had set had begun picking up and Hermione could not help the clenching in her stomach and the grinding of her hips against Minerva's hand.

"Please—" Implored by Hermione in broken breaths. "Please – Minerva…"

Not roughly but assuredly, Minerva had thrust two fingers inside her and she stiffened at the pain from the first ever most intimate intrusion. Indeed, Hermione had just given her virginity to Minerva McGonagall.

Coming out from the abrupt ache is the consciousness that all movements have ceased, except for the rise and fall of their chests with heavy laboured breathing. Despite the fact that the experienced short pain is gone, and desire had returned especially with Minerva's fingers buried in her, a worrying notion had risen that she may have made a mistake of not telling the woman of her inexperience.

As brown ones opened to green ones, flashes of construed deceit with her failed forthcoming were quickly gathered, fought and set aside. Finding both her hands grasping Minerva's shoulders, she raised her lips to the woman and brushed them lightly, breathing the same certainty she gave at the beginning... "Yes, Minerva... Please..."

"Hermione…" Passionately whispered to her face in response in a very deep Scottish tone that only raised her desire to unknown degree…

With Minerva's smouldering emeralds wrapping her in affection, Hermione heard herself begged as the craving that had her in captive has started demanding gratification. Minerva returned to her lips, kissing her harder, deeper, with a fervent need that Hermione could feel down to her soul. Insistent mouth parted hers again, and then Minerva's tongue started making love to hers in equal passion to the movements of fingers that are driving her into ecstasy. It stole her breath away but then fuelled her every senses.

Then the most blinding light consumed her... Momentarily she felt suspended in the sensation... And finally fell into utter bliss. She breathed Minerva's name in exhalation and for a time, she could hear nothing else but the thundering of her pulse.

"Hermione, darling are you alright?" After a while, Minerva asked with heavy-laced tenderness. It made her finally open her whiskey coloured eyes to emeralds that are quite in conflict between elation and trepidation… "I could have been more gentle—"

"It was perfect." Hermione immediately understood the direction of the other woman's words; so she cut the growing misgivings instantly. "I'm more than alright, I feel perfect."

"Are you really—"

Again cutting the insecurity, she whispered in reverence, "How could I not be? Minerva, you just made love to me."

Minerva's eyes instantly burned more with affection. Hermione could not help but celebrate the marvellous response from the woman who had held her heart and soul… and now her body.

She threaded her fingers on lush raven hair, relishing on the silky texture that numerous times she had wondered about as they were always confined in a strict bun. She capped Minerva's nape to draw the woman close for a kiss. When their lips met once again, they elected to share incredibly slow sweet ones. One that seemed to go on forever...

Followed by equally long tender gazing at each other's face...

"You are so beautiful Mione."

Hermione felt pleasure from the praise, and likewise at the sound of her nickname from Minerva's lips. Only her best friends— Harry and Ron, ever use the familiarity and it had become somewhat deeply personal. No one else has… and now Minerva quite naturally used it. She let her face adore her signature Cheshire grin.

"Thank you."

She is not one to practice false modesty; around fourth or fifth year, she knew she started outgrowing her adolescence's physical oddities. Though far from interested, she was not oblivious that fellow students at Hogwarts have started noticing how nature began transforming her into a relatively good-looking girl. She was just really more preoccupied about many things and her appearance was not on her list of import. Of course it wasn't. Especially that she had been hard at work in figuring out (or denying) why she found no one attractive but one transfiguration professor.

"But far compared to you." Hermione added in all honesty after she placed another soft kiss on thin lips. Unsurprisingly, she got an immediate dismissal from the emerald-eyed witch. So she insisted, "I am accurate on this Minerva."

"And you do need spectacles." teasingly, Minerva responded and kissed her again. The woman shifted on her side, taking out her weight completely, but drew Hermione as well so they are still facing each other, and their bodies still touching.

"My eyesight is fine, I don't need glasses. But you, do you even need yours? You are an _animagus_ , does it not cancel the flaw?" answered Hermione in equal teasing and curiosity as she tried to gestured towards the item she knew placed on the bedside table with the older woman's wand. "And lets say you do; why do you need to choose the most serious looking ones?"

"Hah, next time we're on Diagon Alley, lets see if I would be inclined to let you choose my next spectacles."

Hermione tried but failed to ignore the leapt of her heart at a picture of spending a casual shopping trip at Diagon alley with Minerva. _As her girlfriend?_ She could not really let herself go further than the current moment. She returned to the here and now, and to the conversation at hand.

She focused on such beautiful face in front of her and could not help but marvelled more. "You really have no idea how intensely beautiful you are?"

"I am close to 7 decades, how—"

"No, no. I know you know. And I think you know that your age matters little."

"This topic matters little."

"I agree, because you are so much more than that. But let me just say this." Hermione pressed her lips to Minerva's, effectively cut the protest about to be verbalized, before she continued.

"You think no one had noticed because of your severe bun, your plain thick robes and always in your formal self, with your perpetual stern countenance. Plus, Dumbledore being himself helped you a lot as he had easily provided you with one big diversion…"

Minerva at this point had snuggled under her chin and she paused for a moment to gauge if she had over-assumed in her declarations. Or perhaps put the woman in her arms ill at ease. Or that she committed a lapse by mentioning the dead wizard. But when she felt Minerva's lips and fingers, nuzzling and skimming around her throat, she knew it was okay to continue and so she did, and ignored the distraction.

"You may be the only witch who uses de-glamouring charms and I wonder if even Flitwick could detect them as you have obviously well placed them on yourself day in and day out. But surely you know that sans them…" Hermione wanted to say _**just like now**_ but refrained for reason she was not sure.

"…That sans them, you would definitely look like a woman who is not even in forties. But given your high regard on privacy—"

Unknowingly, Hermione paused again, as her thoughts connected the details and produced a conclusive depiction. She easily comprehended the reasoning that that the woman would rather deal de-glamourising herself repetitively than deal with repetitive unnecessary attention.

She thought of what she had learnt about Minerva tonight - of information that can't be found on the circulated books. And those that were written of her accolades, especially war related matters were all short of critical details that would undoubtedly hail the witch. And how the said witch is obviously **content with the lack of applaud**.

The knowledge only led her into understanding that much more is to be accounted. And that the over-ridding characteristic of the woman is **private** … **reserved** … but undeniably **brilliant** … The play on appearance is one of her tactic, a smart one to be inconspicuous. And such is truly consistent with Minerva's nature.

Hermione heard a mumble and it took her few seconds to work out what Minerva had said, which was _**'Your brilliance frightens me…'**_

"Never..." Replied Hermione chuckling and dropped a sounding kiss on Minerva's crown.

"You do." Retorted Minerva smiling as she lifted her head. Then she trailed her lips on Hermione's jawline in light kisses up to her ear.

"I do not really—"

Hermione forgot the rest of her sentence when Minerva started nibbling her earlobe again. "Mmmm…. My god Minerva… You…you are distracting me…"

"Yes." Rich Scottish chuckles vibrated and sent Hermione into fresh episode of arousal, especially when warm wet tongue began its ministrations on her lobes. "And **you like it** … like me licking this." Hermione lost thoughts all together on the conversation they were having and surrendered to the pleasure.

Once again, Hermione moved on top of Minerva as they kissed and kissed. Heat coursed around them as they passionately held each other.

With feline grace, Minerva slightly parted her legs underneath and in between Hermione's… and maneuvered their most intimate parts to be in contact.

"Minerva…" Hermione cried at the never before felt sensation.

Instinctively, she wrapped her left arm around Minerva's exquisite neck while her right arm fell to the mattress to help support her weight. While she felt Minerva's own arms snaked around her back; one secured her waist and the other settled on her rear.

With her mouth just on Minerva's clavicle, Hermione breathed deeply, struggling to not thrust away at the unbelievable warmth of their connection. She wanted to revel in the moment of being in such position with Minerva. But her body demanded. It moved to increase pleasure but Minerva had other plans and stilled her movement. Nevertheless, the action and the contact had caused Hermione a shot of tremor. The deliciousness of it began swirling around her.

"Darling, look at me". She heard Minerva's strained voice calling for her absolute attention. So she gathered her control and raised her passion-laded eyes to accede. Her breath caught at seeing glassy emerald eyes, apparently laden with as much desire, and also saw the slightest indecision. But she quickly understood the woman, like they have been communicating all their lives; Minerva is somewhat asking for her permission… Again wanted to ensure that she wants it without a doubt.

"Please Minerva…" She repeated her earlier words. Green eyes peered deeper into hers for re-affirmation, and of course the woman found it as Hermione held her gaze as intensely.

Minerva leaned up and placed a gentle kiss on her lips but still had their lower bodies locked in motionless. Hermione willed her body to not pounce away and relented to the older woman's direction.

But she buried her head on Minerva's neck and shoulder, took another deep breath in attempt to regulate her throbbing, and then said in a surprisingly very low voice, "I'm going to hex you if we don't move NOW."

She felt the rumble more than heard the older woman's short laugh. She was about to give her indignant objection when it got lost in her throat and was replaced with a loud moan. Minerva's grip on her waist and rear loosened, and started guiding her into moving.

The physical intimacy overwhelmed Hermione and she knew that it was also emotionally binding her to the woman; one that would last her entire life. And she could bet that it will continue in the next life, and the next after the next...

Though it already seemed impossible for air to pass between their bodies, Hermione's desire to get closer is unrelenting so she pressed for more as they move. But Minerva had insisted on dictating their tempo and the pressure… And such are quite maddening to Hermione…

Minerva set soft, slow, and long sliding movements. Every time Hermione increased the speed, Minerva would press her firmly and halt their thrusting. It was torturous but delicious, and made her body quivering in sporadic thrill.

Hermione dragged open her eyes that had shut when they first started rocking. She found emerald ones watching her face with magnified tender look. She was stunned with the intense emotion fixed at her and it drove her pulse into unknown latitude.

It also propelled her to implore the woman, "Please— please Minerva." She repeated once again her earlier words. However, this time they were not about assurance, but really to beg Minerva for the release.

_She begged like she will not catch her next breath._

_**She begged like she rather not breathe if her lungs will not be filled with Minerva.** _

Minerva's hands freed her waist and rear and snaked them around her neck. "As you please darling." The witch whispered to her in strong burr as the reins were handed to her.

Hermione's hands moved to anchor on each of their sides. And finally switched to that damning tempo her body had demanded. She moved on top of the woman like she had been making love to the woman all her life. And so it wasn't too long when she felt herself dripping... She knew she was moaning and racing after that exquisite feeling, and after sometime, that blinding light exploded and consumed her.

Her body was still convulsing in climax when Minerva rolled her back into the mattress and mounted on top of her. Her hands were seized by Minerva, clasped theirs together, and had them stretched above their heads.

As Minerva took over their movements, the recently satiated ache in her core shot to ascension once again.

In contrast to Minerva's earlier controlled ministrations, now the urgency is too pronounced as their hips rocked, rolled and slid with each other…

Desperate for that sweet release and with every intention to bring Minerva over the edge with her, she parted her legs wider and hooked them over long ones of the other witch. Then they met each other's thrust with equal passion.

For Hermione, the rest of the world vanished once more except the woman in her arms… The witch she's making love to… The same one making love to her.

Then she felt Minerva tremble on top of her... Waves of pleasure coursed through the woman, spreading down to her… Breathlessly called her name and it was more than enough for her body to follow the woman into rapture…

And uttered back Minerva's name…

* * *

End of Chapter 7 | The Very First One


	8. Aftermath Of First One

**Year 1998 | 1st Seventh of May**

**The following day**

* * *

_Darling,_

_I loathe leaving your warmth, and it was truly difficult for me to get up from our bed this morning, but there are these blasted meetings I have to attend._

_Do explore the Manor however you desire. The first room at the second floor west wing will surely entice you, but please do not forsake mealtimes! You will need the energy tonight as I have every intention to ravish you..._

_I do hope no imbecile would prolong the meeting and delay my coming home to you, or else I'd have to hex the poor soul._

_I already miss you…_

Hermione re-read the short letter for the seventh— maybe eight or tenth time today. She could not help but re-scanned her eyes across words written by Minerva for her, nor the Cheshire grin that would adorn her face after she read them.

When she woke up that morning, memories of how she spent the latter of last night plus the lingering scent of Minerva's and hers and theirs combined, immediately put a huge smile on her face.

When she stretched and turned on one side, she was greeted by a beautiful rose propped on the bedside table with the aforementioned letter, and a notably vine dragon heartstring— her wand. She knew she left her wand at the other room and she chucked at Minerva's natural conscientiousness.

She reached for the rose first and ascertained right away how Minerva had placed a charm on it. The petals seemed to be breathing and the thorns were actually encased in crystals. It also smells so fresh and Hermione had never seen a rose as beautiful, but considering the giver, one should not be so surprised at its extraordinaire.

About Hermione, of all the many clichés in life that people fall into, she actually fell into just one— the one where her most favorite flower is rose. When she was a kid, she planted one at their backyard and her mom often told her the story of how she cried when the flower-plant bloomed its first flower, and how she also cried when the entire thing died... And how they were so surprised on how it was revived just the following morning. It was one of those things that had been explained when she found out that she is a witch...

She wondered if its just coincidence that Minerva had chosen rose to give her from of all the flowers in the world.

After smelling again the flower like an in love person that she is, she reached for the note and read it for the first time while still in bed, and still very naked.

Just by how the letter was addressed with the endearment 'Darling', Hermione's mind easily paraded moments of when Minerva called her as such and how the word would roll off Minerva's tongue and gave her heart a jolt.

At Minerva's line of **_'I have every intention to ravish you...'_** she brushed profusely. Then laughed aloud at the next words, as they seemed to be so Minerva with that exasperated reference to _'imbecile'_ and _'hexing_ of _poor soul_ '. The witch's wicked sense of humour is one of the things she had long discovered and loved about Minerva.

"I also miss you already…" Hermione said to no one in the bedroom, in response to Minerva's parting line in the letter.

She quickly re-read the entire note for the second time before she got up and headed to the bathroom with a plan to exactly follow Minerva's recommendation to explore the manor, and follow the instruction not to skip meals.

After taking a bath, she was so touched that Dolly seemed to have guessed her need of clothes when she found one of Minerva's simple linen pants and blouse laid out on bed. After simple magic adjustment on the pants' length and her hair's ribbon lengthened and tied around her waist, she headed out of the room to hunt for breakfast.

Actually she realized that she was a bit starving because when she woke up, it was almost mid-morning and it was the streaming sun that roused her. She was surprised at how long she had slept and how uninterrupted it was. It had been about two years, or even more than that that she had unruffled sleep. Immediately her mouth curved into another smile at the recollection of how she spent the latter part of last night— making love— with Minerva. And how obviously it was the reason for her peaceful slumber.

Last night, when their heavy breathing from the culmination finally eased into a manageable level, Minerva shifted their position and slid back on her side and once again snuggled under Hermione's chin, then procured sheets over them with a wave of her hand.

Hermione could not believe how much Minerva likes to cuddle. The woman pressed their body close and intertwined their legs the entire time. She also felt thin lips brushed her clavicles from time to time, and fingered her spine quite randomly. The tenderness was too exquisite, and despite wanting to commit each moment, each stroke to memory, Hermione succumbed to a long overdue contented sleep.

When she stepped out of the room, as she was deciding which way to go, Dolly appeared before her and greeted her a good morning. Then the elf asked what would she like for breakfast as they walked towards a grand staircase that took her breath away.

When Dolly repeated her question, and drew her attention back, Hermione instead asked if she could go with Dolly to the kitchen and make her own waffles and eggs. After Dolly confirmed two more times that that's what she wanted to do, Dolly smiled brightly at her before directed their steps towards the kitchen.

In there, Hermione met two other elves residing at the manor who were already getting out the ingredients and another young elf carrying oranges to be made for her drink. After introductions were made and expressed how Hermione wanted to make her own breakfast, they compromised into doing the tasks altogether, thus complicating the should have been simple waffles and eggs with as many hands digging into making them. But no one minded.

Hermione also wanted to eat with them but discovered that everyone had breakfast hours ago and so she settled into eating at the kitchen table while Dolly narrated few stories about the elves at the manor.

Afterwards, Dolly toured her at the manor's first floor and she was flabbergasted at the ballroom's grandeur. It almost covered the entire east wing of that floor, a bit short of half of Hogwarts' great hall, but still very large in size. However, it was not lost on Hermione on how sad it made Dolly when the elf said that the last time it was lit with a joyful affair was even before Minerva was born, when Dolly herself was a very young elf.

When they reached the den, Dolly's sadness was once again evident when she mentioned that it must have been a couple of decades when the charming room echoed with laughter from guests and friends of Minerva.

Hermione remembered that she did not even know of McGonagall Manor, that there is even a misleading reference to Hogwarts as Minerva's place of residence. But now knowing several details about Minerva, Hermione astutely comprehended how these things affected the manor's activities, which affected the other residents of the place.

Hermione could not say anything but reached out to Dolly's shoulder and to her surprise; the elderly elf's somber face was replaced with something akin to hopeful one. Hermione could not help herself but returned the smile.

Before they proceed to the second floor, they opted to have lunch, even though she just had waffles and eggs, Hermione curiously found herself already hungry. This time, the elves dined with her, or rather she dined with them.

She actually ate heartily; surely following _**Minerva's instruction**_ from the note. The note which she re-read few more times like a witless person when Dolly temporarily left her earlier to check on others about their lunch arrangement.

When they went back to the second floor after an enjoyable lunch, she discovered that the rooms she slept in are located at the east wing far most area. Dolly also showed her several notable guest quarters. Then they ventured to the west wing. Hermione's delight could not be contained upon entering that first room, the one Minerva mentioned in the note. And anyone who knows Hermione can easily guess that the room she just discovered is none other than the library— the McGonagall's private library!

There, as anticipated by Minerva, Hermione was utterly enticed. She spent the entire afternoon browsing the titles of the leather bound books, quite undecided which ones to take out first. After she had scanned the shelves twice, she finally decided to pull about half a dozen books that she'll delve into. Already halfway into the first one, Dolly fetched her for dinner.

Regret that she had to momentarily leave the room; she was consoled that Minerva would be home soon. _**'Every intention to ravish you'**_ floated in her mind and Dolly had to ask if she needed an outer jacket because apparently she shuddered. She shook her head ardently, averted her eyes from yellow ones, afraid that Dolly would read the thought she tried to dispel in her mind— the thought of Minerva ravishing her.

After dinner, she went back to the library and settled into a corner nook. Not long, she was lost in her reading and when she lifted her head from the book as she finished it, she found out that about two hours had gone. And while she truly enjoyed the rare copy of Ancient Transfiguration, she wondered about Minerva.

She called Dolly and asked if Minerva had arrived, and was answered negatively. She thanked the elf and apologized for the disturbance, which the elf dismissed and assured her that she can always call her for anything.

With Minerva still out, she went to start a second book. But while reading it, she paused two times within an hour, and had asked Dolly about Minerva. Unfortunately she received the same negative answer.

She tried to be logical and pulled her brain instead of her eager heart to make of Minerva's delayed return and decided to chalk it at some imbecile's doing. Or she considered that she is being unreasonable and impatient as Minerva of course has lot of important matters to attend.

With the second book on hand, she transferred to Minerva's bedroom, which for a fleeting moment hesitated if she should go to the other room. But the doubt instantly vanished at one glance at the Rose still propped at the bedside table. She then fingered the note from her pocket, and read them. **Again**. Even though the words were already burnt in her brain that first time she had read it.

Sometime later, when her hand brushed against the note that she unconsciously placed on the bed beside her knee, she dragged her eyes from the book and checked the time.

When she realized that it would be midnight in about twenty minutes, she debated whether to disturb Dolly at such hour to ask about Minerva. But her wanting to know won and called Dolly.

Unlike the previous times, Dolly would appear at her first call. Now on her third utter of Dolly's name, she decided to leave the bedroom and maybe wait for Minerva at the den. After all, she is far from being sleepy and there is no way she would go to bed without Minerva.

She was about to swing her legs from the bed when the door opened and came in Minerva.

"Hi." Hermione joyous greeting sounded too loud even to herself but she didn't care; she was too delighted to see the witch. "Did you just get home? Were you able to get dinner? Did you hex some poor souls?" She realized she just rambled several sentences without pausing to let Minerva answer. Hermione chuckled at her silliness.

She stood from the bed and with barely two steps, she took notice that Minerva had not moved from the door upon entering. And that the woman is wearing a blanketed expression... It instantly worried Hermione, "What's wrong Minerva?" she asked as she strode towards the woman but before she could reach her, Minerva finally moved...

And away from her…

Hermione stopped dread and seemed fastened on her spot, as only her eyes were able to follow Minerva, who moved towards one of the room's windows.

Still Minerva did not speak and with her back on her, Hermione could not see emerald eyes to gauge the woman. But with the woman's ramrod stance, it launched a wrenching fear at the pit of her stomach. "What happened Minerva?"

For a time, Minerva still did not answer her. And Hermione was torn between wanting to go near her, or respecting the obvious space that the woman had created…

"I made a mistake."

The tone had Hermione's guts twisted further. But she braved it and asked, "What do you mean?"

Finally the woman turned and faced her but did not really look at her when she spoke, "Last night, it was a mistake."

There.

The voice is almost inaudible but Hermione heard it clearly. She also heard how it sounded absolutely devoid of any emotion with the matched blanket face of Minerva… The beautiful face of the woman she loves… whom she made love to last night… who made love to her last night… who just said how it was a mistake…

"Last night was not a mistake." Hermione's soft voice floated, in contrast to her heart's violent refusal of Minerva's six-word sentence."

"It was. I should not have—" Despite the emotionless voice, one arm impatiently waved in the general direction of the bed.

Hermione's eyes followed the arm, and when it dropped, she stared at Minerva's clenched hand on her side. She remembered how it clenched the bedsheets when she was tasting and touching Minerva last night…

"Why?" Hermione questioned with obvious confusion of why Minerva had said things and continued to say things that she knew in her heart that are untrue.

"Because it was a mistake." Minerva answered her in that damn emotionless tone.

Hermione stared at the presently hardened jaw and stiff neck, and her mind pushed memories of when she trailed them with her tongue last night, and elicited an aroused groan from Minerva.

"Why?" Hermione's question now laced with desperation.

"You're the heralded Brain of the heralded Golden Trio, a bloody short sentence should not be too difficult for you to comprehend." The low and still emotionless tone did not make it less cruel. Hermione flinched… And so did Minerva…

Hermione stared at the thin lips that spat such ugly hurtful words… lips that kissed her deeply last night. Tongue that played with hers… Teeth that nipped her skin…

"Do you hate what happened…?" Hermione whispered as emotions poured into her shaking voice. She had become powerless at the vulnerability invoked inside her, swallowing her pride completely. "Are you disgusted?"

Minerva did not answer but an abhorrent countenance passed through her face… It made Hermione avert her eyes… And they landed on the note that must have fallen on the floor when she stood up.

Like an idiot, she _'acciod'_ the note from the floor wandlessly. As if in a trance, she held and stared at the words that made her heart swell with love the moment she read them… But now… Its writer had principally renounced them…

"Put that away." Minerva's tone had turned clipped and harsh.

**"Why?"** Hermione cried.

"It's another mistake."

**"You wrote it for me."**

"Another mistake I should not have committed."

**"No! You never say, do, or write things that you don't mean."**

"Now, I have."

The letter floated away from her hand and in two seconds vanished into the air.

"Why are you doing this?" Hermione asked in tormented whisper as the gathered tears in her brown eyes finally fell. She also let her head fall as tears now came in earnest. The stabbing pain she felt at that start of this nightmare is quickly escalating to ranges she does not know if she could survive.

She raised back her eyes to the woman to beg for hope… or at least for mercy… mercy not to finish her heart…

And through the cascading tears, she caught how Minerva averted her eyes when they met unexpectedly…

_Emerald ones that turned into glassy ones when they made love…_

"Look into my eyes this time and tell me that it was a mistake..."

Hermione held her breath as she waited for the woman to answer her challenge. When Minerva failed to respond right away, an infinitesimal fire of hope started in her heart that everything would be retracted. The fire grew significantly when Minerva's emerald eyes finally met her tearful brown ones, wherein she saw no hate and even a silver of affection.

But emerald eyes drew up all its bloody walls, and then Hermione heard the finality in a quiet and deep Scottish brogue, "It was a mistake Ms. Granger."

Hermione's world stopped… And she felt the crumbling began.

**"We made love and it was not a mistake."** Hermione screamed… in sorrow, in denial, and in vulnerability.

**"I fucked you and it was a mistake."** Minerva roared back… in regret, in fear, and in anger.

Hermione stared at the lips that met hers in passion last night. Lips that tenderly whispered _'darling'_ to her, and passionately moaned her name when they were making love…

Now they battled with ugly words the woman pronounced tonight…

_Mistake… I should not have… Because it was a mistake… Put that away… Another mistake... I fucked you and it was a mistake…_

They all came down on Hermione— and she lost the fight.

Hermione took one last hoarding gaze at Minerva. Then she turned towards the bedroom door and powered herself to not look back, to not stop, and _**to not beg the woman to love her**_ …

She wiped her face with both hands to clear tears she wanted no one to see as she made her way. She let her feet bring her to the main Manor's entry and purposely exited to depart from the enveloping pain…

After the Manor's main door closed behind her, she concentrated on putting one foot over the other as she headed towards the somewhat illuminated main gates of the McGonagall's Manor. She fixed her sight straight and made her gait as firm and as quick as she could without stumbling. And she tried to ignore the outside cold, and ignored the long, wide and attractive Manor ground that her eyes had swept upon stepping out.

A soft flop almost made her jumped but she kept her stride as she realized that Dolly appeared beside her. She did not stop and it effectively made her pass the elderly elf. She wanted to ignore Dolly and not say anything, but then a revolting thought occurred to her.

_Is the woman making sure that she will leave?_ She wanted to be angry… but the overbearing sadness encompassed her being… leaving no room but grief.

Hermione slowed down but continued towards the gate as she quietly said for the elderly elf to hear. "Dolly, no need to escort, I am really leaving."

"Hermione, no. I do not want you to leave."

Hermione ignored Dolly even though she knew that the elf is simply reaching to her.

"Minerva does not want you to leave either."

Hermione flinched but pushed herself to take another step, and another step…

"You must not leave… You are too upset… You will injure yourself if you apparate."

"It's irrelevant when your heart already disintegrated into thousand pieces." She mumbled but continued working towards the gates.

"Hermione...?"

She took another step. And another. And another. Trying to stop the fresh tears forming in her eyes… And concentrated harder as the gates are now within her reach.

"Please Hermione, stop. If you don't care about hurting yourself, then hear that I do…"

Hermione finally halted her steps. She could not dismiss Dolly's genuine concern.

"And whether you accept it or not, Minerva cares too."

Hermione closed her eyes to control the swirling emotions threatening to break the last of her hold. She understood why Dolly would say such but she cannot deal with the allusions.

"Dolly… Thank you for your concern. Thank...thank her for the concern." She blew air over her face and resolved to get away soon. "I'll be okay. I have apparrated in unpleasant and… heart aching condition… I… I will be okay…"

_In about a thousand years… or never…._

Hermione withheld saying that last part. But what she added was, "Thank you for tending to me during my stay. I am glad to have met you."

Hermione turned and reached for the gates to open them but she stopped once again at Dolly's next words.

"She does not mean whatever she said to you."

Hermione took a deep breath, turned and sadly responded, _**"When did Minerva McGonagall say things she never truly meant?"**_

With that, she pushed open the gates and stepped out. But turned towards Dolly once more. And crouched low in order to level her eyes with the elf.

"Dolly… she has a castle to re-build and a war-torn society to mend. Will you make sure she doesn't kill herself doing so? Force her to eat and rest somehow. I… I…"

She wanted to say that she would dedicate her life taking care of Minerva but the damn woman simply pushed her away… And of course, Minerva McGonagall needs no one…

"Dolly, just drag her away from work… Bring her here for a respite or something… And please— please don't tell her about this…"

Luminescent yellow wise eyes stared at her for few seconds, then nodded quite solemnly. "Thank you for caring about Minerva. I know she—

Hermione held up one hand, unwilling to hear words that would only slice her heart further. "Please Dolly, don't."

Dolly nodded, "If there is anything I can do for you, please call to me. I mean it Hermione."

"Just… what I had asked… Take care of... of her... for me..."

Hermione stood up and shifted to resume with her departure when soft wobbly fingers touched her elbow and with a snap, she saw the handed **rose**... The one that Minerva gave to her...

"This is already yours Hermione."

Hermione swallowed the ball stuck in her throat before she said in a whisper, "Thank you."

She could not take one second more, and stepped away from the elderly elf. She hastily took the necessary distance from the iron gates.

She forced herself not to look back at the Manor but failed, and her eyes caught a flash of magic from the far side of the east wing just half a second before she disapparated.

And then Hermione _**splinched**_ herself…

* * *

End of Chapter 8 | Year 1998

Aftermath of First One


	9. Gaelic, Omission, and Admission

_Please note that this is set the following year._

* * *

**Year 1999 | 2nd Seventh of May**

**Early Morning**

* * *

"Mo ghràdh mas e do thoil e… Mo ghràdh mas e do thoil e…"

"English and French not enough?"

"Bloody Harry!" Hermione jumped from her chair in surprise and knocked her mug to the floor. "I almost hex you!

"Oy, I knocked and called out— loudly." Harry shook his head in protest, but both hands rose in gesture of surrender.

"I should change my wards and not give you the dismantling mechanism." She mumbled, and ran one hand over her face.

"I really did knock Hermione. You're the one completely lost in your big brain— Again. Studying and filling it with more stuff…"

Hermione shifted away from Harry and made to clear the mess from the now broken mug with swift wand movements. Her actions were also made to subtly shield herself. She knows she is sporting a flushed face, neck, and bare arms. But the reason was not Harry's so sudden appearance.

Her best friend was partially correct, she was indeed lost in her own head. But she was not lost in her lessons. What he walked into was of her, lost in memories…

"So you're learning another language...? Geez Mione, slow down. At the rate you are going, only a handful will be on the same track with you."

"Not really. I just was just checking the translation of something." Hermione responded with the last part almost in a murmur, then added clearly in reproach, "And stop with the exaggeration… Really, Harry...? Handful…?"

Hermione moved out of her study room and headed to the kitchen to replace her own drink. She also wanted to end the current topic. She was never comfortable lying to Harry even if the lie is by **omission** , which she would resort to whenever she did not want to reveal something. And if they don't change the course of their conversation, it will lead to that and she is not mentally and emotionally geared today for such exertion.

"I only have water and orange juice." She unapologetically offered to Harry who followed her to the kitchen. Her flat has a pitiful size kitchen but she moved into it last May for the two spacious bedrooms, where the other she had used as her study. Plus the location of her flat gave her a pretty easy commute to the Ministry where she started working since July.

"Do you want me to go with you to the market?" Harry counter-offered and she sighed at his ever-generous gesture.

"No need, will do it soon, I was just caught up packing away the materials I accumulated during the mastery revision."

While what she had said was true, it lacked accuracy. Hermione had pretty much operated on autopilot this week, she had the hunch that Harry's visit right now is somehow related to it. She inwardly chastised herself for not making a show of _'I'm fabulously sane, don't worry about me'_ to her best friend these past few days.

"So what were you saying?" Harry asked after he reached for a glass from one of the shelves.

Hermione silently groaned for her slip; she had hoped that Harry would drop it.

"Just something I've encountered." She answered vaguely, not lying, but not being accurate. And wished that Harry would interpret ' ** _encountered_** ' as something she had read. It was another case of omission…

"Too difficult for my less than golden brain?"

"Don't be a jerk Harrry…" She exasperatedly replied, but she managed a half-smile and a retort, "You know that you're not so thick as you sometimes project."

"Then tell me." Harry's tone was gentle but laced with a challenge. She knew Harry caught her evasive tactic.

This last year, he would let her get away with evasion most of the time, especially when there are other people with them. But when it was just the two of them; her damn best friend would not bulge.

It became an unspoken understanding between the two of them. Primarily, it was to remind each other that everything's the same with them, despite the different lives they moved to after school, after the war. But more importantly, Harry had established it as his way to check up on her, whether she likes it or not…

At the moment, Harry had obviously employed the latter. She would have to find a way to relent without divulging too much. She inwardly groaned again at her less than steady façade these days. She should have anticipated Harry's tighter watch on her.

" _Mo ghràdh_ _mas e do thoil e_." She casually spoke the phrase then added, "But I don't really know if I said them correctly."

"What language is that?"

"Gaelic."

"Scottish? Did you find what it says in English?"

"Yeah." She tried her best to sound bored and dismissive.

"So what does it mean?"

Damn her best friend. And damn her inability to shake him off the topic. For a second she thought about saying she does not know, but somehow she knew Harry would not buy it and it might spark a suspicion in him… Plus at the horrible notions of him asking it around made her blurt it.

" _ **My love please**_ … I think that was the translation."

Hermione guessed that Harry had expected something along scholarly context, and at the romantic translation, she almost laughed at his comical expression of mixed surprise and confusion.

But a familiar voice in thick Scottish accent inside her head stopped her in her tracks. _**'Hermione,**_ _ **mo ghràdh**_ _ **mas e do thoil e…'**_

Her brain naturally coupled it with the translation, _**'Hermione, my love please…'**_ And a pair of glassy emeralds pierced her mind.

"My love please…?" Harry's tone of clarification roused her from near propelling to something she cannot visit while she is not alone.

She mm-ed an answer and again shifted away from Harry. Simply to protect and hide her thoughts...

"And then?" She heard him asked. With her back to him, she briefly closed her eyes to regain her bearing.

"I… I haven't gotten with the rest." She risked a partial lie, as she cannot bloody say more to Harry.

"I see."

With such response, she thought he finally got over the hundred questions and turned to look at him to ask him of his visit at such early morning. But she should have known that Harry's olive eyes were just waiting to trap her chocolate ones. He then suggested casually and yet gravely, "You could just ask Minerva if you want to be sure."

Hermione tried, really tried not to have a shudder pass through her; she somewhat succeeded and failed. She had suppressed the shudder but knew Harry caught her severe effort. Bloody Wizard-Auror best friend of hers!

Then Harry gave her a look, something that made her utterly uneasy. The look felt like Harry had engaged _**legilimency**_ ; searching through her mind. Except she knew his best friend would **never** use that kind of magic on her.

She shook herself mentally and thought how it made sense for Harry to mention Minerva. That she should not make a big deal out of it as obviously he knew of the woman's Scottish origin. Furthermore, by some twist of fucking fate, her best friend and the said witch had struck a friendship since the end of Voldemort. Her ever-logical mind understood the circumstances— Minerva lost Albus and Severus. Harry lost Dumbledore and Snape.

Once again, she sighed inwardly. She cannot help the creeping anxiety at the notion that Harry has on his hands some of the pieces. Except there would be zero reason for him to link _**'the witch'**_ and the _**'encountered phrase'**_.

For fuck's sake, the Minerva McGonagall that Harry is acquainted with, regardless of their settled friendship, cannot be the one he would ever suspect that would ever say supplication! Still, she silently cursed herself for being caught so lost! Lost in such bloody memory of unforgettable night of passion…

And she cursed the bloody witch who cried such supplication during their **passionate encounter** … Of Minerva calling out to her, _**Hermione, '**_ _ **mo ghràdh**_ _ **mas e do thoil e'**_ in her heavy ancestry… When her fingers were buried in Minerva's… And her mouth was feasting on Minerva…

When secured at her flat with no one else to witness, these were some snippets of what her mind would unlock. She would be helpless in getting lost in them. She would let herself be vulnerable and revisit them… She would bravely replay them— even as tears would follow and cascade down her face in relapsed raw sadness…

And **tonight** they mark as year old heartaches…

Since she woke up this morning, or rather drifted in and out of restlessness the previous night, these memories have been relentless as they assaulted her… Memories that are deliciously beautiful and equally painful…

For the nth time in such few minutes, she cursed at herself for her inattention. She forced herself to gather her wits and quickly backed track to come up with a fitting reply to what Harry last said.

"Lets not bother the Headmistress for a mere translation." She answered as simply and ignored his observing gaze. Then to leave the matter altogether, she asked, "Why are you here Harry? And quite early in the morning? Everything alright at home?"

Harry continued to stare at her a second longer before the corners of his mouth turned up and lightly responded, "Am I not allowed to visit my distinguished best friend who achieved Mastery Level 1 in two fields?"

Hermione thanked Merlin that Harry finally let go of that topic. But she snorted at Harry's overstatement.

"Come now Mione, first one to complete Mastery level 1 in Charms and Transfiguration! **Two fields**! For such short time where most would not even finish one! Then beat all exam scores! How can you be dissatisfied with that?"

"Harry, I am more than satisfied. You know that. And you know too how really surprised I was with the results, probably more than everyone! But don't say **_all_** as I didn't."

"I'm not really surprised that you beat every record; you are truly the brightest, Mione. And I could not be more proud of my best friend!" Harry nudged her as he continued to exclaim praise.

"Thanks Harry… Again, you know I did not beat _**ALL**_ records. "

"You beat Dumbledore's Transfiguration level 1! For me, it's as good as **all** records."

"It's not the same. And don't say again because I'm dissatisfied, it's not that. I'm merely stating a fact."

"Well, had you taken mastery underneath Minerva, you could have easily tied her record. Actually, I'm sure she'd be happy for you if you'd top her."

Bloody hell. When Harry mentioned 'underneath Minerva' and 'top her', Hermione could not contain her bloody thoughts…

She was assaulted by images of the woman, moving on top of her, with aroused glassy emeralds intensely staring down at her face as their bodies met thrust after thrust.

She bit her inside cheek and summoned all control to not moan at the lusciousness of it. And at the same time, stop the forming tears at the ensuing desolation…

She cleared her brain and pulled on the long comprehended knowledge of who the woman is… Of the awareness of the doom she sentenced herself even before she bent down and kissed the woman that night… Before she entered the witch's bedchamber, she had accepted the consequences of loving the woman who does not love her back— or maybe cannot love her back…

She shook her head both to dispel the destructive thoughts and somewhat gave answer to what her best friend had suggested. She cursed once more at her unstable condition, and hope Harry would just get on with the purpose of his visit and leave her alone.

"She is the Head of Hogwarts Harry, not just any Transfiguration Master."

"Flitwick is the Deputy and he did not miss the chance to have mentored the brightest witch today. I'm sure Minerva would not say no had you asked her."

She said worse than a simple no. Hermione cried inside, remembering the multiple pronouncements of _'It was a mistake'_ from the woman. What the hell with Harry today that he kept on bumping her to the edge.

"Harry, the woman had- has too much on her plate. She lifted a ruined Hogwarts in less than two months, propelled through complications and opened it by September. All the while anchoring the Ministry on her other hand. It was a surprise she did not kill herself accomplishing things…"

"Much like you didn't kill yourself juggling Ministry work, taking both Charms and Transfiguration mastery?"

"I was just carrying myself Harry, its weightless compared to the combined load of students, school staff and every magical entity in our society— after a war no less… And anyway, one cannot just go to the esteemed woman to ask more of her time that she did not have to give."

Not to mention that the last thing Hermione would want to happen is to find herself on her knees, madly begging Minerva to love her back. Precisely the reason she made sure to evade every function, and every possible meeting without appearing to be avoiding Minerva McGonagall. For almost a year, she managed to be not in the same room as the woman except on two inescapable occasions.

Suddenly she felt the weariness brought by such discussion. She wanted to lie down before she had to face things she'd rather not deal with. She released a sigh, went forth and voiced the reason she knew her best friend was bugging her so early in the morning.

"I already told you Harry, I'll be there tonight."

"Hermione…." She heard the exasperation and knew what was coming next. "I told you, _**only if you want to be there tonight**_."

Tonight— the Ministry had decided to hold a ceremony and a party to commemorate the day they declared 'new beginnings' five days after Voldemort was killed and dark days dissipated. And the venue is nowhere else but the great hall of Hogwarts.

Hogwarts. An institution destroyed not only in the literal aspect, but also with many deaths, sufferings and compounded complications it endured during the war. All these were repaired, restored, re-organised and on its apparent ascension to its glorious state— all under the forcible headship of Minerva.

Does she want to be there? An enormous part of her doesn't trust herself to see Minerva. For Merlin knows what she might do when she sees the woman. Slap her beautiful face or kiss her senseless? My God, either would be deadly!

She thought she could just skip it. Officially there was no imposition for her to come; Kingsley had been true to his word. But she knew he would certainly take note of her absence. Not only him, others too, and the last thing she wanted is to draw more attention and probably raised suspicion on why the 'Golden Trio' lacks the 'Golden Brain'.

Rationally, it'd be simpler to just show up and stay away from the woman. Leave as soon as possible, as subtle as possible. Anyway, it's going to be a huge event with hundreds of people in attendance, the mass can certainly serve as barricade between them.

But who is she kidding, Harry would pick the slightest sign if she evades the woman. No stealth would be possible to excuse why Hermione Granger would not go near Minerva McGonagall. In such massive celebration, people may not notice, but for sure Harry will. And she is not ready for his questions that would follow.

Lastly, there is this unmistakable enthusiasm of Harry about coming to Hogwarts. Ron has no problem with it as well. Even George is coming because irony, to help him cope with Fred's lost, he had been visiting the castle. Harry told her that it was Minerva's idea from the start. So it seems, she would be the only one with an issue in coming back to the place they all once called home. Of course it's not the castle per se. She inwardly sighed. She knew Harry's feelings about it and that was the deciding factor. She did want to give that to her best friend.

While the war did solidify their relationship, it was not lost on her how Harry had anchored her while they moved forward with their lives. And to be frank about it, she had felt Harry's desire to return the unreserved backing she had provided the first seven years of their friendship, when he was thrown into the role of the 'boy who lived'… And that somehow, Harry would not let her reject the support that she actually needed.

A month ago, when the formal announcement of the celebration was disseminated, she made a nonchalant acquiescence but she compartmentalised it away as she was focused on her mastery examinations. But when the exam results came out two weeks ago, and she was left somewhat unengaged for the first time in twelve months, Harry prodded and prodded her true feelings about coming to Hogwarts. As if his olive eyes had seen her blanched at every mentioned of the castle.

Eventually she coughed honesty— a partial one. About how she was torn about going and not going, but she will as she knew he'd want her to be there. But Harry wanted her to come in full heart and soul, or don't at all, and especially not for his account. And they had been at it for almost a week. She wished that he'd let it be.

"Hermione..."

"You want me there, I do want to be there for you. Ergo I'll be there Harry."

"We're going circles Mione. I only want you there if you don't sound like you're going to another Horcrux quest!"

"Going back to Hogwarts is not going to war. I'll be fine Harry."

"That's what you said."

"Yes. About time you let it as it is. Really, I'll be fine Harry."

She hated the **omission** and the getaway, however she could not risk more. But the following statement from her best friend dropped her heart into several degrees of insecurity…

"I meant— that's what you told me and Ron— the last time we were at Hogwarts. After the ceremony that afternoon, you asked for an escape from everyone and everything. You **promised** that you'd be fine. Next time I saw you… you were bleeding… bleeding severely with part of your thigh desecrated. And I thought you were dead."

Fuck.

This is the last thing she wanted to talk about. And she should have known that despite a year of him not saying anything about it, he would not leave it unspoken forever.

"I splinched Harry." She desperately dowsed the pounding of her heart and pushed for a plain and easy explanation. "I was not concentrating. I just splinched."

"No, Hermione **NO**!" Harry's full rage slammed into her face.

Fuck. Bloody fuck.

Hermione felt the interrogation bars descended on her at Harry's categorical objection. She realized that Harry's allowance for her to come forth had expired. Her best friend had enough of her silence about that night and had finally decided to drag her into admission.

"When we were on the run, you apparated us all over the country many, many times. We were tired, starving, cold, and under all kinds of strained circumstances— and you had succeeded in bringing us whole each bloody time. **You - don't – just – splinch - Hermione.** "

"Harry, I was just—"

"NO!" Harry's raised voice cut her off. "Do you know the horrid feeling that choked me when I got a bloodied two word scribble from you? I was so afraid that I almost splinched myself coming to you!"

**HELP NOW.**

Those two words were the only ones she managed to jot down after landing at her parent's backyard coming from McGonagall Manor. She agonizingly attached the bloodied scroll to the owl, and then she passed out from the pain right there in the backyard.

She was eternally grateful that coincidentally, Harry had earlier sent an owl and was obviously waiting for her. Without that, she would not know how to summon help with her splinched thigh that night.

Harry's angry voice raised further and she winced. " **BLOODIED NOTE HERMIONE** …! At such awful hours! After I have not heard from you the entire day! After you promised to always let me know where and how you are!"

She understood the exploded anger directed at her. It was sort of a long unexpressed one because when she came to consciousness that early dawn, with Harry's tearful face beside her, but her thigh beginning to heal, she immediately pleaded to him to let the matter rest.

He respected her wish and mummed about it completely, including not telling anyone else. Yes, he tightened his watch on her afterwards but he never breathed a word about that night. Until now…

In a way, she had been prepared to take on his anger, but Harry switched gear and swiped the rug underneath her feet with his pained and guilty confession…

"Do you know how I blame myself for letting you ran away that afternoon at Hogwarts?"

Dammit. She should have known. How inherent for him to incriminate himself particularly how it was obvious that he claimed the role as the 'care taker' in their relationship.

"No, Harry—"

"I let you ran away when I already sensed that you were not really okay… that you needed someone to look after you."

Harry's voice lost its volume and somehow it frightened Hermione more; the words that tumbled out of him were raw and open and she was far equipped to receive them. She'd rather deal with wrath. Not this.

"Harry, the war just ended. None of us was truly okay!"

"That time after we repaired that one hallway while having dinner, I saw it descended on you when without warning you needed to leave Hogwarts.

"Harry—"

"I saw it every time I saw you thereafter. And I even heard your unspoken misery after we buried Severus. And I still did not tie you beside me to make sure nothing bad happens to you."

"Harry, we were all miserable that time. I was not the only one swimming in vagueness those days… You had a lot to deal as well. You just saved the wizarding world! No one should ask more from you."

"But it was my turn Hermione." Harry's voice cracked and Hermione gritted her teeth at hearing the remorse tone. "I'm your best friend, and it was my turn to be there for you. And where the bloody I was? Planning to ask Ginny to marry! Busy moving forward in a speed of light."

"We were meant to move forward, Harry. It was my decision to be alone, remember? It was how I was dealing with the aftermath. You were dealing it your own way."

"Hermione, can't you see? Had I not been particularly self-centered that day, I would have realized how it was not so you to be unresponsive. When the owl I sent you did not return, and the sun came down, I should have gone to find you. But where was I? "

"Harry, it was no fault of yours. In fact, it was mine. Each day, we've been checking each other and I forgot to send you a note that day."

"I was wallowing over Molly's less than enthusiastic response after I asked for Ginny's hand. I left the Burrow and ran to Grimmauld and worried the shit out of everyone by not telling anyone and not opening the door even to Ginny and Bill when they came later."

"Harry you were trying to move forward the way you wanted to—"

"The fact remains that I did not look for you when the sun came down and I should have. I should have worried why you did not arrive at Grimmauld when I wrote you to meet me there."

"Harry, think… you were having some issues and I was not there for you too."

"Just because Minerva forced her way into the house and sat me down, then kind of did what I was expecting you to do— talked me into it, or out of it. I **forgot** to be worried about you…"

Harry's statement threw Hermione into turmoil. _**Did he just tell her that Minerva was with him that night…? Just hours before the bloody woman came back to the Manor…! And broke her bloody heart into thousand pieces…!**_

"I forgot about my best friend who got herself splinched because over tea and ginger newts, I rambled about my feelings and plans to Minerva. Even though I sensed that she was due elsewhere, for two hours or maybe three, I talked her ear off."

The uproar from the depths of Hermione's guts was clawing her inside for confrontation. Bloody, bloody hell, she just uncovered a huge part of where and what Minerva was doing before she came home that bloody night!

"I forgot about you because I had someone who patiently made me see how it was natural and prudent for people who had survived more than one war to be tentative in making life-altering decisions. That Molly and Arthur were simply making sure that I was not making irreversible decisions borne of war aftermath."

The produced implications proved too much and had spun her head into an overdrive. But Hermione gathered her control, at least until Harry leaves… Until she could sort the details of what she just discovered.

"I forgot about you Hermione. I forgot because I already had Minerva attending to my drama. And even lent me her impeccable perception to see through unrealistic or conflicting things I wanted to do. Something I would have gotten from you as well had you been there. But you were not and I… I did not care. I forgot… I forgot to look after you."

Unknowingly, Harry dealt her another card… Another piece stripped on what had been unknown… on how Minerva spent the prior hours… on what she had thought… on what she had said… before they all came down…

"Hermione, I could have…. I should have gone out sooner and found you before your bloodied note found me!"

"It's alright Harry. You came anyway in the end and saved me. That was the important thing."

"It was not alright." Harry's anger came back in full force and he moved nearer to her, seemingly intended to assure himself that she is in fact alright and standing in front of him, and at the same time trapped himself into self-flagellation, and her into admission. " **You splinched Hermione!** "

"Yes. And it was over Harry… A year over…" She fixed her expression to hide the commotion inside her soul, as she cannot, and would not let Harry find out the reason she splinched herself. Too much she cannot reveal…

"But you never splinched! You DON'T just splinched! That night something happened, something most serious. I do not know what it was… Of course there were tons I didn't know- a lot I still don't know. But I know that something fell on you that night at the dining hall and drove you unhinged... your impeccable discipline faltered... and it got yourself splinched few nights after."

"I let myself splinched? Don't be ridiculous Harry! We just survived a war, of course we were unhinged." Her self control and patience had began running low and Harry's hitting the marks unbeknownst to him is setting her further to the edge.

"But something happened…" Harry grounded his jaw in an effort to rein his anger but he failed and he half screamed at her. "That **something** eventually set you into your mad quest to kill yourself with work after work after work! YOU DON'T THINK I'VE NOTICED?"

Hermione averted her eyes from the interrogating olive ones of Harry's. She scuffled for preservation and the weapon she got hold is to match Harry's anger. "DON'T you use your Auror-training on me!" She spat at him.

The silence that ensued felt like a physical heavy curtain that draped to suffocate her. For an undetermined time, neither of them moved or said anything else. She knew Harry was just worried, she could feel his concern to the bones. She knew he was just trying to reach for her. But for the past year, she had carefully wrapped and shielded from anyone else how unbalanced she really is. But now, her best friend had painted it red in front of her.

She shut her eyes and gathered her emotions. For the first time she felt like she cannot take the the loneliness, and she wanted and needed to let Harry in. But her ever-logical mind prompted how this was not just about her. She reflected who Minerva McGonagall had become to Harry— she cannot create a possible wedge between them. Harry cannot know that Minerva had made love to her then fucked her heart afterwards. He would be torn for sure and she cannot involve him that way.

She almost laughed of how it turned out that Harry was the imbecile who delayed Minerva's coming home that night. Harry just said that he knew that Minerva was due elsewhere. Due to come home to her… When Minerva did come home many hours belated, it was fucked up.

Hermione had yet to contemplate the details that Harry had unknowingly revealed. But her quick mind had easily inferred how the talks with him of plans, of marriage, of age and of aftermath decisions had played a crucial part in Minerva's altered decision to be with her.

She started to exit the kitchen meaning to escape and altogether end the discussion. But Harry moved nearer to her, and eliminated what little space they had in between. She held her breath and attempted to shift away but apparently her best friend was intent on locking her. Left with no choice, she tapped on her long buried Gryffindor and met his olive eyes.

"What do you want from me Harry?" She asked tightly to cover the shaking she felt since the beginning of their conversation.

"I am sorry for overstepping." Once again, Harry tipped her further into destabilisation with his woeful tone. It made her heart stricken further. "I really just want you to see that I am here for you Hermione."

"Harry, I know that. But I'm just—."

"I do not want you to tell me things if you _**don't**_ want to. But I wish… I wish its not because you think you _**cannot**_ tell me… We made a **promise** , we promised to never run away from each other. You know that it means in **every** sense…"

Harry reached for her hands, gave her an assuring squeeze and did not let go. She understood and believed him. She knew as well that Harry knew that she was hiding something from him. And he was telling her that he will never force her. And before she could stop herself, she started crying. It became too much, but she can't say anything, so the tears spoke out. Harry pulled her in an embrace and just held her without asking for any explanation.

After sometime, she heard Harry softly say, "Ron talked to me yesterday, and asked in his moronic way if you have started your mastery level 2. But we both know Ron; we both know that that what he actually asked was why you are sleeping less. And with the Hogwarts battle anniversary recently, he was worried how it was affecting you."

"Yeah, he stopped by my office three days ago and forced a roast beef sandwich to my hands. And as usual, he forgot it was his favorite and not mine!"

They both chuckled and it was the needed break for their emotional charged conversation. But she felt her heart swell at her two best friends' genuine concern for her, their love for her, and it triggered new tears and slipped down her face.

"Remember that time that I thought I hurt Arthur by becoming Voldemort's serpent? You were the only one who demanded that I look into your eyes, then called how bullshit it was, and rationalized the hell out of why it was not possible."

Hermione nodded in acknowledgement as she recalled that incident. On the way to Grimmauld, she had correctly predicted that Harry had employed self-loathe and misplaced self-blame. She drew him out of his self-imposed quarantine as soon as she arrived and dealt with him the way he just recounted.

Harry shifted her in his arms, then lifted her tear strained face to look into her eyes and continued his discourse, "That's who we are to each other Mione. Don't forget."

Fresh tears sprung into her brown eyes, and Harry's own olive ones watered as well. "Harry..." She cried both in guilt and distress.

She had hurt her best friends from hiding. The last year, in her mission to avoid Minerva, she knew she had neglected her friends. While she was indeed overloaded with work, she made use of them as excuses not to attend dinners and gatherings because she knew Minerva was invited. Even if the woman was not expected to come, she skipped them, as she won't risk being in the same place with her. Had her friends not made the extra effort to seek her, she would have seen none of them. Ron would drop by her office from time to time, even George and Ginny. And Harry, he made sure to see her several times in a week. Forcing her to have lunch, to have dinner, to take a break from working...

"It's alright Mione. I just really want you to realize that you have us. You are not alone and would share your burden if you let us..."

The burden… the burden of loving Minerva… How utterly insane that after all these months, she was not less in love with Minerva. Perhaps more so brought by that precious evening of seventh of May. It was not just that they made love. But the woman shared food with her, permitted her to be with the private Minerva, and even saved her from nightmare. And despite the heartache from the following night's rejection, she knew she would never gamble the woman's character by telling her best friend of what transpired. That she would protect Minerva at the consequence of self-isolation. More so now that she found out a piece of the picture of what made Minerva ultimately reject her.

But at the moment, she really wanted to pour out her heart to Harry… To just ease a bit of her heartache… Then it dawned on her.

"Harry…?"

Harry seemed to have sensed that she had unfastened one compartment of her heart, and he shifted her again so they are looking at each other's eyes.

"Harry…" She swallowed the lump in her throat and in a voice that shook, plunged with the **admission** to her best friend, "Harry, I'm gay."

Hermione held her breath and waited for the axe to swing. She watched Harry's forehead furrowed, then his eyes had become distant, then he screwed up his face, then it settled into a somber one.

"Did you ever lose sleep about how I would react?" Harry asked her quietly.

"Yes." She exhaled in consternation.

"Then you wasted sleep over nothing."

"Harry…"

Hermione shuddered at the suppressed elation and because she had learnt to be cautious, she voiced the necessary amplification.

"I am gay Harry. It means I would never love a man in the same capacity that you love Ginny. It is something not everyone accepts. And this is not something you might think that might go away one day."

"I know, Hermione."

"Are you not disappointed, apprehensive, or disgusted that I am— that you have a gay best friend?"

"You're my best friend Mione. Period."

Tears ran down Hermione's cheek at the simplistic and open acceptance she got from Harry that seeped into her heart. She felt herself pulled and felt strong arms wrapped around her in a hug. She buried her face at Harry's shirt and she felt more than she saw that he too was crying from the rumbled in his chest.

"I have not told anyone else Harry. I'm not ready for others to know. Even Ron. I will tell him next, but it won't be soon, it might be harder for him to understand."

Strangely, this made Harry cried even more and when she asked why, he said that he could not help but realized how alone she must have felt. And how heavy it must have been to understand that not all would easily understand. In effect, new tears welled over her Hermione's brown eyes. For quite some time, they were a mess as they hugged and cried.

When they were both ready, they let go. But both felt a new degree of profound friendship. It was like that moment during their first year when they were salvaging the philosopher's stone, when they parted at the potion stage. Except that she was not going back to retrieve Ron from the smashed giant chess board to get help and Harry was not going to stop the enemy who was after the stone.

"Go home to Ginny, and I'll see you both later at Hogwarts." She smiled at him, and somewhat conveyed her promise that truly she would be okay about tonight's event.

Harry stared at her intently for few seconds as if to shred any obfuscation. Then he grinned and teased her, "Hermione, you don't fancy my wife right?"

"Harry!" She threw him a playful punch and then laughed aloud at his incorrigible joke. Then she wandlessly sent a soft stinging hex at him and she laughed louder at his seemingly dancing movements from the tingles.

"Alright, alright stop with the hex! You can't fault me for asking…" Harry raised both his hands in surrender and laughed with her. They laughed some more until they fell into an assuring silence.

"Go Harry. I think I'll try to sleep a bit."

She walked him towards her flat main door and before Harry stepped out, he made one last confirmation. "Do you want me to come by later? We could apparate to Hogwarts together."

"Thanks Harry. But I'll just see you there, alright?" She responded in assurance.

"Alright." Harry kissed her cheek and headed out but before the door shut, she heard him say, "Hermione, later you could ask Minerva, of what comes after 'My love please', for your Gaelic translation..."

She felt herself respond in a non-committal nod, and then released the breath that caught in her lungs when Harry finally left.

 **"Mo ghràdh mas e do thoil e"** She uttered to her empty flat.

* * *

End of Chapter

Year 1999 | 2nd Seventh of May

Gaelic, Omission, and Admission

* * *

* * *

A/N

1- Hello. I had to write Harry and Hermione profound friendship:)

2- I used google search for the Gaelic phrase, if I had them incorrectly, please let me know.

3- If there are holes with the details, will try to squeeze them in the next chapters :)

4- Again, I am just borrowing from JK.


	10. Finding a Master

**Year 1999 | 2nd Seventh of May**

**Early Evening**

* * *

Hermione touched the iron gates of Hogwarts and the imposing metal cracked open to let her in. Undoubtedly the castle's primary access was laced with charms to automatically let in those who have submitted their names for tonight's ceremony. Actually she didn't, but Harry sought her signature a week ago to send it himself. Childishly, she had hoped that he had misplaced it and entirely missed the deadline. No such 'luck', obviously.

She sighed as the gates closed behind her after she stepped inside. She started her measured walk and wondered if the castle's wards tonight were also set to send to its Headmistress the name of who had just arrived. She really didn't think so as it would be too great of a disturbance and quite impractical considering the number of guests tonight. Nonetheless, she shuddered at the notion that Minerva might immediately know that she just set foot at Hogwarts.

She recalled the last time she pushed open these gates and trudged forth on these grounds, exactly a year ago. For all the twelve months that passed, her broken heart had barred her from coming back. And she was extremely grateful that strictly speaking she didn't have to. Not even in relation to her education.

Last June, to mobilise students' lives into the next phase after the war, Hogwarts and the Ministry jointly designed, approved and conducted an educational bridge platform. Basically there had been special examinations, intended to determine if a student is to be promoted to the next level, or be retained to their prematurely halted one when they return to school by September 1. But for fifth and seventh year students, their special examinations would serve as qualifying examination for their OWLs and NEWTs respectively.

Hogwarts professors aided by some Ministry employees held a rigid two and half-week tutorial for anyone who had wanted the extra preparation. And because Hogwarts was still under repair at that time, all tutorials including the examinations themselves were done at the Ministry's building.

When the official announcement came out, a week and half before the scheduled tutorials, Hermione resolutely asked Kingsley about taking the examinations that very day. And because everyone seemed to have concluded that it was mere formality for the Golden Brain, no one raised an issue when she was given permission, and anyone else who volunteers to take it that day. No one was surprised when there had been no other takers, as well as the fact that Hermione Granger passed them in a breeze. But to the amazement of all, she also took her NEWTs within the next couple of days and equally breezed through them with high marks.

Her outstanding marks and with the forgone conclusion that she is the brightest witch of her age; Kingsley promptly offered her a full job in MLE. Deep inside, she wanted to accept such great opportunity, and strangely because she wanted her first job to be where Minerva had hers. But instead, she asked Kingsley if she could be hired for the open research job at the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Kingsley refused, he was adamant that her talents would be gravely under-utilized there.

Hermione felt that to make her plans work, (that is to keep on moving forward, be as damn busy as she could be without failing, and more importantly be as far away as possible from Minerva) she had no choice but disclosed to him of her ambitious goal to start and finish Charms Mastery in just one year. As true blue Ravenclaw, Kingsley easily understood higher education pursuits, and given that the concerned person is Hermione Granger, he relented and assigned her at the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, but for a better post than just research.

Either from genuine concern or mere intrigue, people questioned why she did not get a more prestigious post, especially with her heralded intelligence and skills. At that point, only Kingsley, Harry, and Ron knew of her plans of further education. And quite predictably, the talk stopped and people understood when she officially started her Charms mastery with Professor Flitwick. About two weeks after she started her job at the Ministry.

But to the shock of many, after a month, she took another apprenticeship— one for Transfiguration.

Truthfully, Hermione wanted to take Transfiguration mastery from the start, but as the field leads to no other than the Master of all— Minerva McGonagall, she opted to take Charms. But then she met Level 3 Transfiguration Master Klyde Creighton, a middle-aged wizard who moved back in Europe after living in Asia for more than thirty years. And before she knew it, she had asked if he could mentor her.

Hermione was jolted from her rumination when a blur whizzed past her. She saw it— or rather saw him, suddenly stopped his hurried strides few meters ahead, and walked back to her.

"He—llo— Her—mione." Neville Longbottom pantingly greeted her.

"Oh, hi Neville."

"Cong—congratulations! I— I read— about your— your masteries! Wow! Really!"

After mere 9 months or so, to her satisfaction, she completed the requirements for both Charms and Transfiguration, including the final examinations. She did not even realised what she had accomplished until the Ministry record officer told her that none has done two fields in such short time; Especially when most could not even finish one subject in one year… Then her final scores officially came out two weeks ago. Hers became the new top record in Charms and the new second top record in Transfiguration.

Much to her utter dismay, the usually ignored boring academic accomplishments were suddenly published last week. Perhaps due to her 'Golden Trio' attachment, someone from the Ministry Record Department furnished the information to the press. Since then, people had been knocking to offer well intentioned but redundant congratulatory message.

"Thanks Neville. I did receive your message from Harry earlier this week. But, are you alright? You're quite winded."

"Yes. I had to come back home. I forgot this." Neville raised an approximately 8x10 inches frame covered by a velvet cloth and sort of waived it while his other hand was easing the side of his stomach as he tried to regulate his breathing.

Hermione hid her smile at realising that although Neville certainly changed physically, as he now towers her with his lean stature and his face had all lost its 'babyness' features, still all she could see at the moment is that perpetually flustered first year fellow Gryffindor.

"Gran specifically told me to bring it so she can give it to Professor Creighton. Thank Merlin I remembered that I had forgotten it before Gran remembered to ask for it. Sometimes, my memory is still as hopeless." Neville laughingly finished his rambling account.

Hermione did let out a small smile. "It's for Klyde?"

"Yes. Did you know that they were old friends?"

Hermione shook her head and mentally calculated what she knew of Mrs. Longbottom's age and her Transfiguration master's. She didn't think they went to Hogwarts at the same period; they have more than a decade in between.

"They saw each other last holiday. Gran mentioned that she dug up an evidence of their mischief of that one summer in early 1960s. She wanted to show him tonight."

"Evidence of mischief?" She asked as together they fell into a slow pace towards the great doors of the main castle.

"It's a photo, and Gran said it was a captured moment of that mischievous afternoon. This is pretty interesting actually, a bunch of wizards and witches in all sorts of disarray and rolling in laughter."

Neville started unfastening the tie of the cloth to bring out the photo. On the other hand, Hermione's natural curiosity was ignited when she heard him started enumerating the names of those in it.

"Apart from Gran and Professor Creighton, I only recognised Former Headmaster Dumbledore, Former Minister Bagnold, Professor Moody, Hanna's Father, Susan's father and aunt. And three others I didn't really know, including the one Gran was wrestling with. "

When Dumbledore was mentioned, she immediately thought Minerva would be in it too, but Neville didn't say so. She didn't really think Neville would label Minerva as one of those he didn't know. And then she heard his adjustment—

"Oh, plus Headmistress McGonagall." Neville finally handed her the uncovered photo and her chocolate eyes zoomed on one face right away.

"Summer of Year 1963 at Bone's Manor after duel practice." Neville read the inscription. She also heard his animation as if he was seeing it for the first time like her. "This was taken 37 years ago! Can you believe that?"

"The name of the witch your Gran in wrestling with is Kleoleen, she's Klyde's older sister." She responded as she mentally traced the beautiful face of Minerva. "They all looked like they were truly having a great time."

"I know. I've never seen Gran this relaxed. And I didn't realise how physically enchanting Headmistress McGonagall is. Must be her absolute jovial appearance here while she was obviously laughing at Sir Dumbledore! They looked so closed that I asked Gran if they were secretly married. She laughed at me like she just heard the funniest joke ever."

"They weren't married Neville." She reluctantly handed back the photo to him. Minerva's gleaming emeralds stayed in her mind, and it prompted recall of that moment when the woman had laughed so hard at her when she narrated her boggart story. What she would give to bear witness again to such rapture.

"Oh… Well anyway, Gran said that this was Mr. Creighton last photo with them, that's why he wanted to give it to him. Few months later, he met a woman who he followed to Asia to marry and they stayed there even after she died many years ago. He only came back last year. I think you already know that. But he told Gran he returned because he could not say no to Headmistress McGonagall."

At Neville's last sentence, Hermione got utterly confused. Did he mean that Klyde Creighton finally left Asia because he was asked to teach at Hogwarts? That is not what she knew of the circumstances. While the wizard is currently teaching sixth and seventh years Transfiguration at Hogwarts, it certainly was not because Minerva asked him. Or did she?

Hermione met Klyde at a chance introduction by Kingsley one afternoon in July. She immediately liked the wizard easy gait but obvious intellect. Later that week, she saw him again at the Ministry; apparently he needed to regularise his long abandoned records. A casual talk had led them to interesting discussion on transfiguration. Of course, it pricked her interest further after she learned that the wizard is one of the few who apprenticed under Dumbledore. She was really impressed and was inspired by him. And before she knew what she had done, she had asked Klyde if he could mentor her.

But a little more than a week before September 1, Hermione heard from Harry that Minerva would teach Transfiguration herself while holding Hogwarts headship. When she asked Harry why, he could only presume that she didn't have the time to find someone she approves of to teach her subject.

Hermione was **livid** at Minerva's unmistakable stubbornness. She had feared that the bloody woman would finally kill herself with overwork. She nonchalantly floated the idea of Hogwarts prestigious post to her newly found Transfiguration Mentor, and suggested that they suspend her mastery education so he could grab the opportunity to teach at the castle.

Klyde told her that he'd seek Minerva about the post. Shortly, he informed her that Minerva truly wanted to have closer interaction with young people at such crucial period of war aftermath. Hence the reason she decided to teach the subject herself. But the Headmistress admitted that she could not fit the schedule to handle all seven levels. Hermione's exasperatedly sighed before she could cover it, and not after his mentor informed her that he _forced_ Minerva to give him a job.

In the end, Klyde had settled for two levels taken off Minerva's load. And because the lighter load left Klyde with enough time to mentor her, he _convinced_ her that they proceed with her mastery. He even asked her to drop the 'Master' and the 'Sir' and simply call him Klyde.

So did she or didn't she steal Minerva's incoming Transfiguration Professor? Why did Klyde never mention it when she talked to him about the teaching post? Hermione's brow knitted in **confusion**. Some things do not add-up. She thought how to delicately ask Neville without sounding too inquisitive, but her burning curiosity made her abandon it and she asked straight up.

"Klyde returned to Europe at the Headmistress' request for him to teach at Hogwarts?"

"Professor Creighton laughingly told Gran that no one 'can' really say **no** to one Minerva McGonagall— period. But on a serious note, and more accurately, no one says no to Minerva McGonagall especially when she requested you to mentor the brightest witch today.

Hermione was floored with the answer.

"You know, the Gryffindor Golden Brain named Hermione Granger who saved the world with Harry Potter? I think you're familiar with her?"

She vaguely heard the rest of Neville's teasing remarks. Her mind centered on one thing— _**'no one says no to Minerva McGonagall especially when she requested you to mentor the brightest witch today'**_ …

What the hell...?

Minerva found her a Transfiguration mentor! Why? Did Neville have it all wrong? The burning questions had begun seeping through her mind. But she heard Neville's worried voice and focused back to him.

"…Meant no offense. I'm sorry it must be annoying to be labeled that way. I was just… Actually, I was really just repeating what Gran was told by Mr. Creighton that was told by the Headmistress… I actually heard him myself that the Headmistress referred to you as the Brightest Gryffindor witch with a truly golden brain who saved the world with Harry Potter and Ron Weasley… Please, don't be angry. I am sorry. I really was just making it light."

She heard Neville's rambled apology. Evidently, he interpreted her silence as a negative reaction to his teasing. It was not the case. She had learnt a long time ago to dismiss the labels attached to her. She was just shocked with what she found out that it knocked the wind out of her lungs. And while her mind started crunching for the why, she felt her heart exploded at the mere fact of what Minerva had done— for her. Infinitesimal **hope** pushed forth and strangely, it scared her.

"No worries about it." She gave him a smile and dismissively waved a hand to convince him that nothing is amiss.

"Are you sure? You're not offended?"

"No, no Neville. Sometimes, I'd space out when suddenly I remember something I needed to do. I'm actually sorry for worrying you…"

Neville finally cracked a relieved sigh. A genuine smile appeared on Hermione's face as she thought how Neville's tender heart had remained the same.

"I'm glad Hermione." They did resume walking as apparently they had stopped without her notice. Then she heard him added, "But you know, they're not inaccurate."

"Huh?"

"Even when we were first year, we can all see how extra-ordinary your mind is. And people should not really be surprised with your recent accomplishments." Neville bravely finished his praise with another teasing, "as indeed you're the brightest witch with the golden brain!"

"Are you sure you didn't all see my big head and bushy brown hair back then?" She laughingly retorted.

Neville laughed too. "Well, also that." And they both laughed more.

Dozens of steps further, they have entered the hallway that will lead them to the Great Hall. The ceremony had obviously started as no one was loitering outside.

"You go ahead Neville, your Gran might start looking for you."

"Are you not coming?"

"I am. But I just have to swing by a bathroom. I'll see you in there, shortly."

She watched Neville nodded and slipped through the doors. Then she marched towards the first room she could reach and slumped against the door after it shut closed.

Bloody hell.

When Harry left this morning, she had hoped to get sleep but she actually spent the next few hours in bed tossing the details that her best friend had unknowingly revealed to her. Turning her mind, heart and soul into complete chaos. Utterly making her confused… livid… hopeful… confused… livid… hopeful… Then repeat.

And then, not even an hour at the bloody castle…

She heard Neville's words in her head, ' _ **No one says no to Minerva McGonagall especially when she requested you to mentor the brightest witch today…'**_

Confused… livid… hopeful…

Bloody Minerva McGonagall…

Confused… livid… hopeful…

Bloody woman she's in love with…

Hermione could not help the exasperated cry that pushed from the depths of her entirety and she grunted, "Good Godric help me get through intact tonight...!"

"Certainly, Hermione Granger!"

Hermione's wand raised and pointed at an instant towards the direction of the voice. Lumos casted, she saw Godric Gryffindor leaning from a painting that housed a ballerina.

"Godric you gave me a fright!"

" **A Gryffindor in fright? Assuredly not!** " Godric Gryffindor quipped and Hermione let out a laugh, as the needed message was hammered to her in such short sentences.

"Indeed not Godric..."

"So how may I be of assistance tonight to none other than _**Gryffindor**_ Hermione Granger?"

Hermione took note of the repeated Gryffindor reference. Then released a deep sigh and responded, "You already did, Godric. You already did."

Hermione saw Godric smirked and laughed at her. Then as sudden, grave features focused on her. And Hermione was compelled by the Great Godric Gryffindor, "I hear that you're the brightest witch of your age. But don't ever let Rowena rule you on matters that you should be conspiring with me."

Hermione could only nod as his words washed over her. Then after a moment, Godric Gryffindor disappeared and she turned and headed towards Hogwarts great hall— uncapping her Gryffindor courage.

.

.

.

* * *

End of Chapter 2 – Year 1999 | Finding a Master

* * *

A/N

1 - Klyde Creighton (and Kleoleen) are not in HP. Just my additions.

2 - By the way, I made a small revision on the previous chapter (Gaelic Omission and Admission) to include a bit of George Weasley.

3 - Again, I am just borrowing from JK Rowling.

4 - Thank you for still reading :)


	11. Praises and Platitudes

**Year 1999 | 2nd Seventh of May**

**Same Evening**

* * *

Hermione caught Kingsley's words, as she slipped inside the great hall of Hogwarts, as silently as she could through one of its side door. She thanked Merlin that everyone's rapt attention is on the Minister as she leaned back on one semi-obscured column and escaped being noticed.

Then her eyes directly went to one person that was standing few feet away from the Minister. Hermione felt the tug of her heart at seeing the woman she is undeniably in love with, more so if that was possible.

Mere seconds later, emerald eyes shifted, met her chocolate ones— and locked with them.

Hermione is much too aware that the last time that she had held these emerald eyes was after she demanded them to accompany the vitriol words of rejection that were being spat at her…

_**'Look into my eyes this time and tell me that it was a mistake...'** _

When the woman in response brought her entire walls and even some more, she took that one last hoarding gaze at the beautiful face of Minerva and fled from the Manor. And for the next twelve months, Hermione did everything she could to be as far away as possible from the woman who would not love her back.

The avoidance game that she played had resulted to only two inescapable occasions that she had to be in the same room with Minerva. Even then, she averted her eyes completely away from the woman. Frightened to the core to see the woman's damn walls rejecting her entry, or worse withdrawn ones but in placed is disgust of what they've shared.

But after what she just learned from Neville, and after the strange conversation she had with Godric Gryffindor, she now bravely detained such green commanding eyes, where she can clearly see the owner fortifying the raised impregnable walls. Hermione did not waver and pulled more of her Gryffindor courage not to baulk… And battled the ones that are obviously calculating her opened ones…

And it was proving to be a torture as images from her memory, the one of glassy emerald eyes that enveloped her in passion were colliding with the ones right now of barricaded detachment… She **knew** she could trade all her achievements just to have them stare back at her in that state of passion… state of tenderness...

But Hermione endured the conflicting reactions… Comprehended the complications… And then she decided to attack with a wild card…

She mouthed a soundless 'Hi' to Minerva and complemented it with a small wave of her left hand.

In answer, Minerva seemed to have pulled a more blanketed countenance. Hermione feared that she only compounded the complexities between them. Still not breaking her gaze, she had bitten her lower lip to prevent the tremble and inwardly got hold of her still tattered heart not to disintegrate further. Then she tapped more from her Gryffindor reserve, and sent Minerva an assured smile, figuratively opened herself with her brown eyes to convey a message of reconciliation… Then she held her breath.

A muscled in Minerva's jaw twitched in the most imperceptible manner but Hermione caught it and her smile rolled into a beaming one, and adorned her face of her signature Cheshire grin.

Her wild card was not a miss. So far… Perhaps she can get through tonight intact...

She watched Minerva turned and walked the few steps to the Minister. Apparently Kingsley had finished his speech. One she had zoned out as soon as her eyes landed on Minerva. She could read the older woman thanked the wizard, watched her wandlessly casted a _sonorous charm,_ and the rich voice settled on the great hall.

"Good evening everyone. Our Minister delivered a poignant message about light, liberty, life and love. What could be more fitting to remind all of us, on a gathering such as this? I suppose, there's nothing for me to say more to make them 'truer' than ever…

The Headmistress of the castle paused to let her simple words make their way inside everyone's minds and hearts. Hermione watched the venerated woman seriously ran her eyes around the great hall and captured more of the audience. Then saw thin lips slightly quirked and she could guess what was coming before she heard it.

"Oh yes I heard, someone just said, _nothing to be added Headmistress except to open the sumptuous feast_."

Hermione chuckled along with just a handful of people, but the majority in attendance were unsure if indeed the Headmistress Minerva McGonagall was serious or not.

"If you didn't catch the jest, it was only that. My animagus hearing didn't really pick up such thing. It only heard quite a rumble of someone's tummy. Although legilimency helped me to read someone's mind of how I should just get on and serve our dinner."

Minerva's dry tone made Hermione chuckled even more, together with the considerably increased laughter from the older audience. But the youngsters were obviously still torn between laughing or not, probably because their tummies did rumble…

"Perhaps I need to banish you to your dormitories without dinner and deduct house points if you still didn't realise that old people like your headmistress are allowed to make a jest."

This time, everyone laughed.

Hermione's heart constricted a little and she found herself thoroughly reminded of one of the first reasons why she got attracted to the woman. Minerva's mind, which is undoubtedly full of knowledge and wits, has always been a forcible magnet that draws her in. Hermione further dug her shoulder against the column in an effort to not go to the woman and snog her senseless. And contented herself watching the woman commands the great hall with such grace.

"Now that we have settled that, I would like to raise a toast to family and friends…"

Harry and a bunch of red haired sitting near him immediately got up and the rest followed suit.

"Albus Dumbledore once said in this great hall— _'That while we may come from different places and speak in different tongues, our hearts beat as one.'_ I know that my predecessor, our great leader, my friend— would agree that as we raise our wands tonight, our hearts beat as one for our family and friends who are no longer with us, but are not really lost to us as they reside deep in our hearts."

Hermione raised her wand with the rest of the crowd, intently watching the face of Minerva as the woman extinguished all lights, leaving the room lighted only by their wands. She watched her made a complicated wand movement that released a massive phoenix in the air that exploded into seemingly hundreds of stars that settled at the ceiling of the great hall. She watched her lighted back the room and finally summoned the sumptuous feast on everyone's table.

The joyous sound that erupted from the great hall penetrated Hermione's mind, but she could not drag her eyes away from a pair of emeralds that had settled back on her. Eyes that are still guarded but with some walls observably withdrawn...

Hermione moved quite unconsciously to go to the direction of the older woman, but about three steps done, a hand on her shoulder halted her. She regretfully shifted her eyes away from emerald ones and turned to the person who had reached out to her.

"Hermione, hello!" Elated dark brown eyes of fellow Gryffindor Katie Bell met hers in greeting.

"Hello Katie." She greeted too, but she could not help but swiftly looked back at Minerva who was sought by Kingsley.

"I didn't mean to delay you to your friends", Katie gestured towards Harry's table. "I just wanted to say congratulations on your Transfiguration and Charms."

"Thank you Katie."

"Angie said that George said that Harry said that you're quite pissed at the Daily Prophet for publishing the story of your two field mastery and all the records accomplishment. I somehow get it, and I think you're going to be bombarded tonight with the congratulatory message. Am I starting it?"

"Neville did." Hermione quipped, half seriously.

Katie chuckled, "I know you'd rather that people stop making it a big deal, so I just thought that I should tell you that despite its making you obviously uncomfortable, that you should know that it's also quite an inspiration for some... like me."

Hermione heard Katie chuckled more and could guess that it was from the look of surprise and confusion on her face with the straight **praise** just attributed to her... by a fellow Gryffindor that she went to school at the same time... Because she knew that back then, her fellow students were kinda exasperated with her studiousness.

"I was getting too pressured and frustrated still being at the reserve roster of Lanchashire Quidditch team because they rather field male chasers. I mean, I don't know until when I can be patient with them, or just wait to be traded. Then I read about you in the news. And I started considering the idea of mastery in Transfiguration if Quidditch won't work out for me. Of course I'm not aiming to finish in the same speed as you have! And definitely I will not be topping any scores, but I've always like Transfiguration and I have an O mark in my final exam. What do you think?"

"The Lanchashire coaching staffs are idiots. They should have fielded you in the starting line-up. Harry told me how mad your flying skills have advanced." She made another look at Minerva who by now was joined by another wizard. She turned back to Katie and assured her, "But yes, there is no reason for you not to take Transfiguration mastery if you like to."

Hermione genuinely smiled at the bright smile that adorned Katie's face after her response. And they were not **platitudes** and lies. She knew back in school that Katie did well in Transfiguration because she once heard her say that she was happy to get Outstanding from McGonagall. And Hermione by that time had already developed the habit of picking up things related to one emerald witch.

And on Katie's professional Quidditch state, it was one of those things that Harry related to her gushingly about their friends, even if she was just half listening. He had told her about Katie's superb flying skills that liberally developed, that got her signed with Lanchashire but disappointedly not fielding her. And hoping that Holyhead Harpies would start taking players with non-G names so her and Ginny would be teammates.

"Thanks Hermione. I won't hog you now. And it's really great to see you tonight."

Still wearing that bright smile, Katie briefly touched her right forearm in friendly gesture before she walked away. Hermione quickly turned to the direction of Minerva to catch the woman in mid-withdrawal of her gaze at her. For a moment she debated if she will continue to go to her as the woman was sitting down with the Minister and some members of the board. She thought of making a formal greeting to Kingsley her boss as an excuse and she started moving to them, but then she heard her name being called— **quite loudly**.

"Hermione! Hermione! Or must I say, Transfiguration Master Hermione Granger! **AND** Charms Master Hermione Granger!"

She groaned inwardly. Leave it to Hagrid to put the spotlight on her.

"Hi Hagrid." She replied as she spun on her left to face her half-giant friend slash former professor in Magical Creatures. Regretfully, she abandoned her intent to go to Minerva and instead walked closer to Hagrid to desperately keep him from gaining more attention. "It's still Hermione. Just Hermione."

"Non-sense! Brightest witch is never just Hermione!"

Hermione almost wince at increased volume of Hagrid's exclaimed **praise**. Sometimes she would like to charm their kind-hearted friend into a foot tall version of himself.

"But really Hagrid, titles are not important and no bearing with friends."

She attempted to downplay with her quiet dismissal of his **praises** without offending him. But bollocks, Hagrid eyes watered and the emotional rambling began.

"Oh-Her-mio-ne-such-a-bright-and-hum-ble-witch! I-knew-back-then-you-are-one-of-the-kind-and-most-won-der-ful-young-lady! I-am-just-so-so-so-proud!"

Really bollocks, people have begun turning to them.

"Hi _Hermione, congratulations!"_

" _Congratulations Hermione!"_

The congratulatory greetings, **platitudes** , and redundant **praises** began. And she pasted a smile on her face and nodded here and there as form of acknowledgement and muttered her thanks. And the greetings had increased as Hagrid continues his rambling.

"Yes, Hermione my friend here is now the only one to have Transfiguration and Charms Masteries in less than a year! And even top the exams!"

" _Wow, Hermione!"_

" _Kudos to you Hermione Granger!"_

" _Are you going for another field or straight to next levels?"_

They have definitely caught several attentions and continue to gather more much, in each passing second, much to her dismay. But she caught Katie's grinning face just not too far away from her. She tried to quench the uneasy feeling of being the center of such adulation as she remembered that some really just wanted to send their cheers, just as Katie had. When two bodies settled on her sides who made excuses for her and ushered her away, she thanked Merlin for having such great best friends!

"Sorry I didn't see you arrive." Harry whispered to her as she settled into a vacant seat apparently saved between her two best friends.

"Do you want me to hex Hagrid?" Ron asked her in a light tone.

"Thanks guys. I'm okay. It's okay. Lets eat, I'm hungry."

"Good, lets dig." Ron happily responded.

Harry casually handed her an orange juice but his piercing olive eyes asked the unvoiced question- ' _how are you really doing'_? She gave a serious nod in an answer and he accepted it after she reached for a piece of bread and scoped a hearty serving of one of the dishes, after all they are Hogwarts food, which definitely make you famished.

When she raised her head afterwards, she realised that while their table is across the one from Minerva's, she could not see the woman's face but only her back so she contented herself with her own table. She also realised that her own tablemates have not bombarded her, most likely due to advanced interference from Harry and Ron, and probably waiting for her to be the one to open communication.

Hermione leaned forward and reached across Harry to his red-haired wife. "Gin, excited to be a mom? Are we hoping the kid would inherit whose mischief, your brothers' or Harry's?"

"Oy!" Several objections were voiced, then everyone at their table let out a laugh. It broke the seemingly thin-ice atmosphere she had created when she arrived. And people started chatting to her as they continue to eat.

She cursed silently at herself for causing the awkwardness and silently vowed to make tonight an opportunity to reach out to friends she had discarded for a year. Even to mere acquaintances, she would make the effort to interact with them. She owed Harry to make him not worry about her tonight.

After several replenishments of dishes and desserts, people have started getting up from their seats as part of the middle great hall were magically being set for the band stage and dance floor. Everyone took the chance to roam around and seek people out. She knew Harry had primarily stuck to her side until he saw her initiated talking with other people. Although from time to time, he or Ron or both would come back at her side.

As she promised, she sincerely had taken to talking to whoever expressed their **platitudes** and **praises** without uneasiness. Regardless that she was repeating herself in conveying that it was never her intention to finish two fields as such and such. And how she just did not want to pass the opportunity that landed on her to apprentice under two great masters.

"People are congratulating me as if I am the one who topped the new Charms Mastery Level 1 record." Professor Flitwick remarked to her when she went to him to say hello.

"Sir, I would not have done it without your guidance." Hermione genuinely responded.

"Rubbish my dear. You are far more skilled and intelligent not to achieve them, even without me. And really, call me Filius as I recall that you have no problem calling Klyde by his first name."

"Alright, Filius. And I know I thanked you before for taking me as your apprentice and ever grateful that the Headmistress allowed you to do so despite being the Deputy and the Charms Professor of Hogwarts."

"Allowed me? Did I never mention that the Headmistress raised the brilliant idea for me to mentor the brilliant Hermione Granger! She even suggested that she could relieve me off my summer duties to make sure we could begin right away. I think she found out from Harry that you were looking for a Charms mentor. I'm glad though that she thought of telling me, as it was a something I would have offered myself had I not thought that you'd initially take Transfiguration mastery... I don't know if you've heard that even when you were just a first year student, I would complain to her why you were in her house and not in mine?"

She mechanically shook her head in response. Because for the nth time that night, actually the entire day, Hermione's ever-sensitive emotions in relation to the woman were thrown into haywire...

So even Filius mentoring of her had Minerva's hand on it... Her bright brain can comprehend how the matter was not different with the circumstances of her Transfiguration Master. She should have made the supposition actually after her conversation with Neville. It is the **why** that had been making her heart pound.

"She would always say that the Troll incident should be enough to explain why you're a Gryffindor when you took the reproach despite losing precious house points you've worked hard to gain."

"You all knew the truth?" Hermione almost spluttered the drink she just taken.

"Well, not that instant. But after you three rescued the stone and the senior professors sat down to talked about the events. I lamented my case again about your intelligence when Sir Dumbledore reported that Harry told him that you knew what to do with most of the set protections, particularly the the devil's snare and the potions. Even Severus joined in, he lightly said that maybe you should have been in Slytherin for casting _Petrificus Totalus_ on Mr. Longbottom."

"The sorting hat did ask me if I would rather use my head or my heart. I told him that the fact that he was asking me the question than just send me to Ravenclaw, he knew that in time of greatest test, it's not my head that I would be using."

"Ha! Had she known that before," Hermione knew that Filius was referring to Minerva without following his gesture to the woman. "She'd have had better arguments than saying that only someone brave would accompany her two best friends to make sure they don't die. Sir Dumbledore would end our discussion by telling us that some things are meant to be."

She looked at the woman across the great hall where she had mentally marked her whereabouts the entire night, similar how she kept track of her that time after the Hogwarts battle. Hermione can see very similarly how the woman was being sought by witches and wizards non-stop. The number of people, who went to her to congratulate her masteries had been quite plenty, but still behind the number of those who solicited Minerva McGonagall— The Headmistress… The Heroine…

Since she left the McGonagall Manor one year ago, this is the first time Hermione had remained in the same room with Minerva far longer than obligatory. With the two inescapable occasions where her attendance was a necessity, she would not even look at the woman and she had bolted the moment she could.

The first event was two weeks after she splinched herself. There was a hearing at the Ministry where she, Harry and Ron had to stand for their testimonies. When one wizard asked her to elaborate on how she was tortured at the Malfroy Manor, her distress rose to a dangerous level. She was about to lash out when the clipped commanding voice of Minerva McGonagall interfered—

' _ **We have no right to put people who primarily helped end darkness through detailed recollection of their experienced torture just because we are incompetent to understand what the ghastly word entails. We have no right at all. If you agree, I suggest we move on.'**_

Everyone in the room understood that the word 'suggest' was clearly an order. Even then, she kept her eyes on the Minister alone, and then almost ran when the judges allowed them to leave.

At the moment, Hermione observed the esteemed woman finely dismissed two wizards after talking to them. Then she watched the esteemed woman openly received Ginny and Molly Weasley who just approached. She watched the emerald-eyed woman smile at what Ginny had said after her best friend's wife made a gesture towards her 6-month belly.

Harry and Ginny got married last November and it was the second inescapable occasion she had to be under the same roof as Minerva. It was surely a test of sanity for Hermione; Minerva was not only a guest but Harry actually asked the woman to stand for him as family.

It was hell and heaven for Hermione to have stood beside the woman the entire ceremony. Fortunately, she had Ron on her other side. While she did everything she could to not look at the woman, olive scent assaulted her the entire time, and it drove her to invade some personal space of Ron in an effort to free herself from Minerva.

The exchange words of love between Harry and Ginny during their vows almost strangled her as she fought images in her head of her marrying Minerva... That when her duties as best friend were done, she slipped through the doors and left as subtly as she could.

"Are you really just sticking to orange juice tonight?" She turned to face Harry who popped beside her with a champagne glass, seemingly offering to her. "Or do you want whisky, they are really good. Minerva told only handful of us where to get them, she said it was from her personal collection."

"You don't drink whisky." She pointedly replied and ignored the reference to Minerva.

"I know, but I had one earlier, and as guaranteed by Minerva, it went down my throat as smoothly. I could take up drinking whisky."

"I'm not sure its good for you, Harry." Hermione chuckled at Harry's display of mischievousness and ignored again the reference to Minerva.

"If I become a whisky drinker, you can blame Minerva and her impeccable taste." Harry laughingly responded.

Everything leads to Minerva. She sighed and purposely misled her exasperation at Harry when it was truly at the thought that there is no escaping Minerva. At least not tonight…

"You don't really want a stronger drink? Or even just this?" Harry offered her the champagne again.

"Thanks Harry, but no."

"Okay, will give this to Molly instead." Harry moved, but turned back to her after two steps and she heard him say, "Are you not coming? Ginny and Molly are with Minerva, you haven't said your hello, right?"

**Bloody Harry!**

She followed him for she has no reason not to. During the several steps across the hall to get to Minerva, Ginny and Molly, she fortified several of her resolutions she made earlier. Mentally, she went through them…

_Don't make Harry worry about you..._

_Don't make Harry have another piece of clue about you and Minerva, which you would be doing so if you make a big deal of saying hello to the woman…_

_And you can get through intact tonight by saying hello, after all when you entered the hall didn't you resolved doing so…?_

When Harry first reached the women, she heard him teased his wife while passing the champagne glass to Molly, "Not for you Gin, sorry you're not allowed honey. Minerva, Molly, look who finally left her studying..."

Bloody Harry! She mockingly rolled her eyes at Harry before she stepped beside him to say hello, but Molly went first.

"Hermione dear, thank goodness to see you here tonight. And congratulations on your achievements! We are all proud! But my dear, apparently you told Harry and Ronald to be quiet about your scores, and we only heard them from Percy as he was rattling all about them. It was the day before the Daily Prophet published them as Audrey told him that she saw the draft. She tried to tell her boss to ask your permission first, but as you know, these days you're **always news** dear. Probably after the Minister and the Headmistress. Started or rather continued after you've had your NEWTs with all 'outstanding' marks, and ahead of everyone, and without revision per Ronald! Anyway, I told Harry to tell you that we want to throw you a dinner party, did he?"

"Thank you Mrs. Weasley, but…" Hermione started to response but Molly interrupted her.

"Come on dear, just Molly."

"Okay, Molly. But…"

"You can invite anyone you like and I would be happy to cook everything you like. And I think you need some proper dinner, as you awfully look too thin from the last time we saw you. It was last December, right? And I already told you that time how you already looked too slight. But maybe now you're done with your first level masteries you'd take a break."

"Mom, can we let Hermione actually say something?" Ginny mercifully had cut Molly's unceasing prattle, though she understood how they were out of affection, she was becoming uncomfortable particularly that Minerva just heard how she seemed to have neglected her own welfare.

"Gracious me, I'm sorry. Go ahead dear."

"Harry did tell me, thank you. But how about I visit Burrow so we can talk about it?" Hermione began and compromised, as she knew that it's not wise to immediately shut down Molly about dinner party she had put her mind to.

"Good Hermione. Actually, I was just also inviting the Headmistress to visit the Burrow." Molly responded.

Hermione then fully turned to Minerva, she already expected the woman to have some walls in placed; yet she can't help but feel disappointed and conflicted. Her ever-logical brain had quite comprehended the necessity for the formality, they are in the great hall with hundreds of wizards and witches. They have roles to play, even if only Harry, Ginny and Molly are standing with them who can hear their conversation... Also, she internally berated herself for the disappointment, thus the conflicted feeling.

Right now, the woman is the Headmistress Minerva McGonagall and herself is the Golden Brain Hermione Granger... And she had not spoken to the woman for an entire year.

"Good evening Headmistress. Hogwarts is as amazing, no doubt due to your excellent headship." Hermione managed to address the woman, the Headmistress.

"Ms. Granger, your achievements are really extra ordinary. Hogwarts cannot be more proud of you."

Hermione almost let out a humorless laugh at the stiff formality of **platitudes** and **praises** between them. When they have shared far more personal interaction that **no one** in the entire great hall could ever imagine. And it was not just because they made love. They essentially spent an entire night letting each other know who they are behind their complete names and designated roles.

That night, they ate, laughed, and cried— as Minerva and Hermione. Even when Minerva rejected her the following night, despite the initial emotionless tone the woman had injected, thick tension laced between Minerva and Hermione. But now as they stand only few feet apart, their real selves cannot be farther away as if one is in London.

"Mione, check your Gaelic translation with Minerva."

**Bloody Harry!**

Very imperceptibly, she saw Minerva's corner mouth twitched as if she had deduced what Harry just said. _No!_ She cannot possibly guess! She wanted to hex Harry. More so she wanted to hex herself for this morning's lapses. She was afraid that Harry would say more before she could come up with an excuse, but Merlin took pity on her and the voice of Hogwarts Deputy garnered their attention as he introduced the band.

In an instant, Minerva had graciously excused herself for some sort of official matters. Harry, Ginny and Molly absentmindedly nodded in acknowledgment as they have directed their interest to the band being introduced, just as the rest of the great hall. For a moment emerald eyes locked with hers as the woman walked away from them. Then they were withdrawn completely.

As the first song sounded, she watched Minerva made a trip to Kingsley where she stopped for a word or two. Then she watched Minerva expertly skirted two or three wizards who obviously wanted her attention, but soon forgot when their sight lost the woman. And finally, she watched Minerva nodded to Filius, turned towards a secluded corner, and even without actually seeing it, Hermione knew that Minerva either disapparated or turned into her animagus form. Either way, the woman was definitely done for the night.

During the next two or three songs, she internally debated what she wanted to do. What she can do…

She leaned close to Harry and softly told him, "Harry, I might take off not very long. Please tell Ron for me. And I'll see you both tomorrow for dinner as we have planned, if you're still up to it."

"Are you really okay?"

"Yes, Harry. And thank you again, not just for tonight." She honestly responded and kissed his cheek.

"Thank you for tonight too, Mione. Careful apparating, okay?" She heard him teased a little and she chuckled.

"I will. I promise you won't need to heal me." She teased back as Harry also kissed her cheek.

"Yeah, I almost freed Kreacher when he followed me with _Dittany..._ Owl me tomorrow, okay? Just you know... And don't bother preparing dinner, lets just go to Muggle London to eat and confuse the hell out of Ron."

After few more minutes, Hermione started her way as subtle as she could towards the same side door she earlier used when she entered. It was the one slightly obscured by a column, she was aiming to not draw any attention to her leaving.

Then outside the Great hall with no one else around, as everyone's attention was drawn inside by the band, she encountered Peeves who defensively stated, "The Headmistress allowed me!"

"What?" Hermione asked in confusion.

"I asked permission from Headmistress McGonagall to enter the Great Hall and join the fun, she said yes, provided I don't cause ruckus. So I'm allowed! I'm allowed!

"Really?" Hermione raised one brow in jest.

"Yes, really! I talked to her as she rounded the exit towards the lake. I swear, she allowed me! She did!"

"Okay, Peeves. Have fun! Just behave."

"Yes! And Oh Granger danger, congratulations! Professor Creighton and Professor Flitwick talked the Headmistress' ear off about you some fortnight ago. But don't tell them I told you, I was not supposed to be eavesdropping!"

Hermione continued her steps towards the main oak door of Hogwarts. And when she reached it, she halted her steps and circumnavigated to another direction… one towards the lake…

* * *

End of Chapter

Year 1999 | 2nd Seventh of May

* * *

A/N:

Again, these are all JK Rowling's and I'm just borrowing and spinning them to my liking.


	12. The Respite

**Year 1999 | 2nd Seventh of May**

**Later the same evening**

* * *

"Shouldn't the brilliant double master heroine commemorate inside?"

"Shouldn't the venerated Headmistress heroine commemorate inside?"

Hermione thought she was very quiet, but she should have known that Minerva McGonagall would surely detect her presence, even without turning around. She took more steps forward, but because the woman had not moved, she didn't dare go too close.

"I was…" Hermione mentally weighted if she should **tell the Headmistress** that she was leaving... Or **tell Minerva** that she was leaving…

"I was going to say that I was just taking a respite. But truthfully, I was about to leave. I ran into Peeves who thought I was censoring his entry. He swore that you've allowed him and somehow blurted that you're… that you're here… And I thought… why not a proper hello… before I go home."

Minerva still had her back to her and Hermione could not help the thought of how unwelcome her intrusion here. She silently questioned her reasons for letting her steps directed here instead of out of Hogwarts. _'Just because you found out that Minerva had maneuvered your Masters obtainability, you think everything had changed?'_ She disgustingly chastised herself because apparently, at the end of the day, she's a fool as ever for still not knowing how to let go of loving this woman. _'Alright, time to call it a night'_ , she grudgingly resolved to oneself.

"So… Hi Minerva… And… And good night…"

Hermione was half-turning to go when Minerva finally faced her. With Countenance still guarded and with heavy observing emerald eyes, the woman met her brown eyes.

"You're leaving."

Hermione can't quite decide if Minerva was asking, or simply just repeated the state of her actions. She nodded nonetheless.

"The celebration is great. Hogwarts is great. The dinner was more than satisfactory. And it was good to see people enjoying themselves. And when I left they had started to dance. And Harry said your whisky was impeccable. And the Headmistress was in her usual marvellous self with her welcome remarks, and how every witch and wizard wanted to talk to her. And I am rambling… And yes, I thought it was time to head home." Hermione sighed. Bollocks. She's rambling…

When the older witch did not immediately responded, she was about to repeat her farewell. Then she heard Minerva, not the headmistress, but the woman she met on a night like this last year…

"I was also going to say that I was just taking a respite. But truthfully, I was done with the ' **commemoration** '. The great hall, when packed of hundreds and hundreds of witches and wizards, can be quite overwhelming… on a night such as this…"

"Even to its Headmistress?"

"Particularly to its Headmistress."

The honesty from the woman pushed Hermione with some honesty of her own, about how she felt about tonight's **commemoration**.

"The left and right congratulations were too much for me. I feared that those who would next comment for the nth time how brilliant I am for finishing two masteries, so fast and so young might find themselves transfigured into a coat rack and charmed into dancing ones and I am not even joking..."

At seeing Minerva's slightly raised one brow, she amended.

"I know they mean well. Katie said I inspired her to consider Transfiguration Mastery. And that's great. But glorification on academic achievement should not consume more attention from what tonight's commemoration was all about. I get it, it helped boost whatever illustration of moving on, and of progress, especially that the Minister had put his obvious endorsement on it… on me… But I just wanted to be out of the damn news for tonight because tonight should be about far many other matters than just my exam results and—"

Hermione stopped herself. She realised how she was rambling, AGAIN! And really whining! What the bloody hell was she doing…? Few minutes talking with Minerva. and she was reduced into a blabbering dramatic idiot. What golden brain? More like toasted brain? She wanted to hex herself.

"Indeed, Ms. Bell has talent in Transfiguration."

How can she not love Minerva even more? Hermione understood that Minerva accepted her distress, excused her apparent rambling, and helped her out of embarrassment.

"I know. Katie was so proud when she got 'O' from you. Her friends teased her mercilessly that she sounded as if she won the Quidditch cup."

"I did tell her during career counseling how it could be an avenue for her. But I can see how coming from an old professor was not as encouraging, compared to the inspiration brought by a— by a— bright young witch."

Hermione knew… **she just knew** that at the last second, Minerva replaced the word 'beautiful' with 'bright' and she cannot contain her Cheshire grin and tremendously improved her frame of mind.

"Maybe it proved to be too daunting for Katie. Because such remarks, from the Transfiguration Master who holds all records in that field maybe be inspiring, but more likely intimidating…"

"Perhaps in just short time, the titleholder of such and the operative inspiration for Ms. Bell would be one and the same."

"Never." Hermione smilingly objected.

Then they fell into silence. Hermione was not sure if Minerva was having the same reminiscence of very similar tone of their discussion that she was having… Of the time when Minerva told her how sometimes her brilliance could frighten her and she responded with the same one word of 'never'. All the while wrapped in each other's arms…

"I was twelve, when Albus said I would beat all his records in Transfiguration. Decades later, after you and Harry and Ronald just protected Nicolas' stone, Albus told me that perhaps someone had arrived that will eventually beat my records. By your third year, he made bets with past Hogwarts Heads that it would be you. Him, Brutus and Armando and even Severus were at it this morning, again. I had to ask them to take their discussion elsewhere, I couldn't do any work with their loud voices."

"But I didn't." Hermione honestly protested.

"You have… In principle you have, for finishing Transfiguration and Charms together and at short period."

"I'll tell Dumbledore he can't cash-in because technically I have not. He's cheating fellow Hogwarts Heads. I can't believe that even after this life, he's still manipulating things and I— "

Minerva's rich chuckles had stopped Hermione in mid-sentence, silver of pleasure ran through her spine. She forgot the rest of what she was about to say, and even forgot to breathe with what she heard next from Minerva…"

"I can count in one hand the number of people who will say such about Albus. That's why you're in the House of the Brave darling, despite—"

_**Darling.** _

The naturally uttered endearment finally caught Minerva's awareness and she too stopped, cleared her throat, and somehow finished her sentence.

"…Despite your supreme intelligence you're still not in Ravenclaw. You really belong to Gryffindor."

"There's no where else I rather belong."

Hermione also cleared her throat before she responded. Her heart knew that she meant not the house of Hogwarts. She wondered if the other woman knows that what she meant was to belong to her… freely beside her… to love her… and be loved back…

A year ago, heart disintegrated into thousand of pieces, she had forced herself to breathe, to move somehow, and to move somewhere. It led her to accomplishments as she has the skills and the intelligence, and putting triple amount of work just guaranteed them. But they all seemed so insufficient.

She even has the public adulation these days and that seemed to matter less. Whereas she took a big step away from friends and acquaintances, the general public had enough updates on her by being on the news, about her NEWTS, her work, and her masteries. The Daily Prophet even phrased it as _**'Hogwarts' Golden Brain Blasted Anyone's Doubts of her Brilliance.'**_

And Harry was very much spot on when he said this morning that something happened to her last year. She knew that he had guessed that it was more than the war aftermath. While he doesn't hold all the pieces, he called it exactly what it was. That she had set herself into mad quest of work after work that likely to have killed her if Harry was not around to pull her back. And the most insane of all, she did ALL of them in an effort to silence the longing of her heart.

Oh she tried to tell herself how heartless Minerva had been when she rejected her. How countless times she put in repeated loop of Minerva's image and voice with her rejection when she spat— 'I fucked you and it was a mistake.' But with all her supposed brilliance, she could not stop hoping that Minerva would appear at her door to love her…

Of course the woman never knocked at her door. And maybe every night she was beginning to hope the woman would never do, in order to manage her heart. And besides, dead tired from work, or the fact that she would only quit studying and work hours past midnight helped make her time in bed shorter… Shorter time to replay that night when Minerva snuggled under her chin…

Hermione roused from her rumination when Minerva moved farther from her, and towards the white stone where they had buried the body of Albus Dumbledore. The marker seemed to have the effective way of reminding Hermione of one unadulterated truth she had awaken to that dinner of which Harry was referring to as the incident when 'it descended' on her. Truth and reality of who is Minerva McGonagall… _The Headmistress. The three time Heroine. Undoubtedly a focal point in the Wizarding world,_ _ **more so now than ever**_ _._

She weighed her options, calculated how much more she could spare her heart for tonight, of the emotional upheaval she seemed to have taken on since Harry's arrival this morning. But as she looked at the reflective face of Minerva, she knew that the woman needed someone right now, someone just to be there for her. Even if the damn woman herself did not know that, or would not have it.

"Are you okay?" She boldly asked Minerva.

"Yes…" Minerva exhaled in an answer in an almost sure way that told someone how she was not as collected.

Hermione could only think of how Minerva must be so used to riding on the train of self-sufficiency… And how tiring that must be. She partly rode that train for the last year and her backbone almost broke, if not for Harry and Ron in her life. But this woman was probably on that track since she was 14 years old. And the last years must be equivalent of multiple decades, especially when Dumbledore died.

"You were thinking about Dumbledore…?" It was not really a question.

"Aye… And Severus. And Amelia. And other friends and students… But yes, particularly Albus…"

"And he's more here than the Head office?" Hermione softly inquired, partly to get Minerva talking, partly she had guessed that there must be a significant meaning to it.

"This was Albus' favorite part of Hogwarts. And for the love of Merlin, I never figured why."

"Maybe there was no reason…"

"He trained me here. About two months after my wounds from Gellert's battle were completely healed, he forced me to resume our advance lessons. I detested it when I didn't even want to study at all. My grades were fine and no other professors would say I was faltering, but it was not that..."

"You felt it was pointless."

Minerva nodded, "More so, I detested training here. The calming water of the lake was just proving to be a distraction. Albus just laughed and repeatedly pointed to me that there is no such thing as distraction to a great witch or wizard."

"He wanted to draw you out. And maybe he also wanted the calming distractions for himself."

"I thought so."

"And somehow you knew, it'd have been pretentious for you to train in the safe heaven of a classroom after that bloodshed you went through. Clearly Dumbledore knew that."

Hermione tried to gauge Minerva's impeccable control battling with the obvious emotional recollection. She wanted to smack the woman for always, always trying to be the stone she had presented herself to the world. And at the same time Hermione wanted to kiss her face, kiss the struggle away.

"Before going to the platform after the graduation ceremony, Albus asked me to meet here and I thought he was sort of going to give me one last training. But I was left speechless when in that final meeting, he apologised to me."

"He apologised for the Grindelwald war? For bringing you into it?"

"Yes and no. He apologised for not getting to me before I needed to do my first kill. It was the only time I ever heard him truly apologised for anything… In more than fifty years of knowing him…"

Hermione watched Minerva's emerald eyes swam through memories, seemingly helpless not to be swept under. When it finally settled into a somber one, and emerald eyes disappeared briefly to possibly keep tears away, she braved the short distance, stood beside the woman, and slipped one hand with pale elegant one.

Minerva turned slightly towards her and stared at their joined hands. When she lifted her emerald eyes on Hermione's brown eyes, she seemed to have accepted the offered support and laced their fingers tighter.

"When I returned to teach, we spent as many hours here, as many times as he bothered me in my office. Arguing and agreeing on countless matters…"

Hermione silently watched Minerva lifted her eyes to the sky before she heard her account, "The sky appears so much similar of that night after we dropped Harry at Privet Drive. It's the wrong month I know, but the air smells the same. Or maybe I am just imagining it… But I would never forget how we argued here until very late."

"You objected that Harry be left with his relatives?"

"I watched his relatives the entire day prior to Harry's arrival there. I knew he would not be really cared for. At 14, I was family-less in principle and despite being cared very well by the Manor elves, most nights I would question what did I do to deserve such loneliness. So I cannae help the thought of what chance Harry has in that house?"

"You tried. And even if Dumbledore had reasons, it was still his burden not yours for how Harry was raised."

"I tried the notion of sending Harry to the Manor, but he would also be as lonely there as I am here at Hogwarts. It would be too strenuous to travel back and forth for me and Harry. Besides, Albus and I were cleaning-up after the war. Furthermore, Harry was an infant, not 14 years old. I would fail the Ministry's requirement to take him in... So, in the end, I really didn't have any feasible or legal alternative to offer. And Albus was way above me in rank and everything else. Even now, I can recall in verbatim how he closed that discussion—

' _ **We both know that I am right and I am wrong Minerva. Now do I have your word that you're with me for my rights today AND especially for my wrongs tomorrow…? And more importantly that you will be there to amend them when I can't see those in between…?'**_

"—I can even remember how afterwards he shoved his pack of lemon drops in my hands. Telling me to have some… Dismissed the discussion and dismissed me..."

Hermione thought of what would have happened had Harry lived with Minerva… The supposition would definitely lead to countless of suppositions. And how many times had Minerva revisited that path during this last war. And somehow, it explained why his best friend had taken on Minerva as his family this last year; they struck an understanding...

"Bloody Albus… Sometimes, I hate him with every fibre of my being. And sometimes, I feel I would not know what to do without him… I've never known this castle without him. He was my boss, my mentor, my best friend, my substitute father and brother. After Gellert's battle, when I didn't want to do anything with anyone, I only talked to Albus. It was almost that entire school term… until Amelia took pity on me and dragged me back into the land of normalcy? And I bet Albus somehow manipulated her into doing so."

Minerva chuckled but Hermione also heard the deep melancholy in it. "What would he tell you if he's here now?" She asked Minerva.

"To enjoy the night. And have some lemon drops." Minerva let out a smile. "Actually, he did tell me. Or rather, his portrait did. And sent an elf to give me this."

"He sent you lemon drops?" Hermione asked in amusement after Minerva showed her a small packet from one of her robe pockets.

"Would you like to have some?"

"Thank you but no. I never really like its taste."

"Me neither. And Albus knows that."

Minerva let out a short laugh as she put the pack away. Hermione could not help but tighten their laced fingers together upon hearing them and somewhat pulled Minerva closer to her. When the laughter died from thin lips, Hermione could see the effort to concentrate on Minerva's face before she heard the woman finally tore open the door they had shoved away.

"Hermione… that night at the Manor…"

She watched Minerva paused and moved her gaze past her shoulder in obvious deep thoughts. After a moment, the woman took a deep breath and watched emerald eyes shut for just a second. But Minerva shook her head, dislodged their hands and wrapped them around herself, moving away from her…

Hermione internally debated… Is she ready to hear whatever Minerva was about to tell her? Probably never... Anyway, she heard the rejection before and even if Minerva would explain the harshness in it, it will not change the fact that that was indeed a rejection… **And she could feel in her bones how it was not going to be retracted.** She plainly understood that while twelve months have passed, things that played crucial between them are still there…

Again, the woman is the Headmistress… The woman is the three-time Heroine… And the woman is still anchoring their world… Undoubtedly unavailable to anyone… And they are both women…! Women who are always making the news... She knew these things. Facts her golden brain had paraded in and out of her mind the entire year to equally plagued and pacify her heart for what she cannot really have.

But when she was walking earlier to leave after she talked to Peeves, an old thought dominated inside her mind— _**'Any capacity the woman extends to her'**_ … And it thoroughly tempted her and her steps had circumnavigated her to here and now….

"It doesn't matter Minerva." Hermione moved towards the woman and held such green eyes as she repeated, "It does not matter."

Hermione was only met with silence in response, but she felt that it was the kind of silence that only confirmed the complicated things that they already knew between them. Hermione moved closer to Minerva and once again took hold of one pale hand. She did not let go when Minerva initially resisted. Then they seemed to have both taken the **respite** offered by the moment.

After a while, Hermione took Godric Gryffindor's earlier words-- of essentially shelving her brain. She bravely asked, "Minerva, do you want to get out of here?"

"I… can't."

"That is not an answer to my question. I asked if you want to."

"I can't neglect my duties while…"

"I am quite sure that the Headmistress had taken the necessary action, like advising the Deputy in advance that she's likely to bolt the commemoration; hence he takes over when she suddenly went missing. That's hardly negligence…"

"Where are… where are we going?" Minerva tentatively asked and it secured Hermione to seize this woman for tonight.

"Somewhere other than here."

"I don't think—"

"Lets go Minerva."

"I can't just take us—"

"I will take us somewhere. Just apparate us out of Hogwarts, or we walk towards the gate, and I'm not letting your hand go."

Hermione knew she was cheating, but she had resolved to any capacity that she could to take hold of the woman tonight. She resolved to take the **respite**.

"Hermione we shouldn't just—"

"Apparate us NOW, Minerva."

Hermione took hold of Minerva's other hand, a second later, a soft crack sounded in the silence of the lake…

Then another from outside the Hogwarts gates…

* * *

End of Chapter | Year 1999 | The Respite


	13. Commonalities and Differences

**Year 1999 | 2nd Seventh of May**

**Still the same evening**

* * *

Swept by Hermione's strong urging, Minerva effortlessly shifted Hogwarts' wards and apparated both of them outside of the castle grounds. However upon landing, she tried to let go and issued another protest, "Hermione, I don't think—"

"Minerva, hold tight." Hermione interjected and pulled the woman closer to her as she took them to London after sounding another crack.

The moment their feet securely landed, Hermione can read from Minerva's eyes her unvoiced question of where she had taken them. And as Hermione anticipated, mixture of reticence and worry also reflected in the older woman's face.

"Our old house." Hermione supplied the answer and she walked towards a door. 

Specifically, they've landed at her parents' back garden, but the surrounding fences made it safe from prying eyes, muggle or even magical ones. With one hand not letting go of Minerva, her other rummaged behind one plank for the key she kept there.

It is indeed the Granger's house. One that had been abandoned since she altered the memories of her parents that sent them packing to Australia, before she figuratively packed up for war. 

"My parents are still in Australia." She casually added as she unlocked the door and stepped aside to let Minerva enter first and then she secured back the door. Afterwards, she reluctantly disengaged their hands as she traced her way to one kitchen closet to switch on the main power.

"But both of them alright?" Minerva inquired and she almost jumped as she did not realise that the older woman had followed and stood very closely behind her as she tried to push the utility gear. Minerva reached up and simply did it for her. "Are you parents alright?" Minerva repeated as the woman stepped away to give her space.

"Thanks." She gestured about the power box and added, "And yes they are okay."

Last year, Hermione told Minerva about what she had resorted to in order to protect her muggle parents. It was one of those things she blurted in between tears while in Minerva's arms after she woke-up from a nightmare, which were really memories of torture from the insane Bellatrix during their capture at Malfoy's Manor.

But she was unsure if the older witch knew what happened to her parents afterwards. Obviously, this is the first time they are conversing after a year. Plus she knew that there were endless matters of import that Minerva was dealing with during those critical weeks. The daily news constantly ran details of how Minerva was repairing Hogwarts day and night... Of how Minerva was working with the Ministry to put order in their society here and there... Of how the witch is literally and figuratively front and center and in the gutter to propel their world to a more lighter tomorrow.

If she skipped the daily paper to escape reports about Minerva, or surrounding Minerva, or leading to or from Minerva— there would be Harry to tell her about the woman doing this and that. Everyone would agree that the most occupied person that crucial time was no other than Minerva McGonagall. Even now actually, when they are still in recovery… So it was really unlikely that the woman knew of her parents' situation.

"A day after we have finished our testimonies, the Minister extended his special contacts to locate my parents. I was planning to go, waiting for the boarders to open, even though I was unsure how to do the search. But I figured, it could not be more difficult than looking for horcruxes and dodging those who wanted to capture an undesirable. But the Minister reminded me that there might be others out there, who are still loyal to Voldemort, or simply want revenge, and I would only endanger my parents.

She watched Minerva paused, and waited for her to precede their journey further inside the house. She could also tell how Minerva seemed to listen very attentively to her narrative so she continued with it.

"He assured me that he would only call his most trusted and competent comrades in Australia. Thankfully they found my parents; Safeguarded them for several weeks until it was determined that they are out of risk. Then the Minister introduced me to the new St. Mungos Head Administrator – Healer Hypatia Allis. She eventually traveled with me and performed the memory lost reversal. Its likely my parents would still be lost to me if not for their help."

"Memory loss spell is in of itself a complicated magic to cast. To say the reversal is ten-fold complicated is not just an understatement. It simply can't be done by anyone who does not have the proficiency in healing. Even then, it has no guaranty. That branch of magic is too complex especially if it was to counter a strongly cast memory loss. If the reversal is not done well, it may reduce a person's entire brain like a newly born baby…"

Hermione hid her smile at hearing Professor McGonagall. "I know, I've read about a dozen books on it. While I've learned to cast the spell, the reversal was surely beyond my skills."

"But Hypatia is highly skilled with that."

"She is. She successful restored my parents' memories. I owe her a massive debt. Do you know her?"

Minerva nodded to confirm knowing the healer but Hermione heard next the question she detested answering. "When will your parents return?"

"Not this year. Maybe next year or next next." She shrugged as she answered her usual response. But she could not help but be honest with Minerva, "My Mom does not want to leave several things there hastily just because... just because they received back their memories and discovered that they have a daughter— who is existing in another continent— who is actually a witch. They weren't exactly thrilled with what I did…"

Hermione wanted to sound nonchalant but failed to completely hide her distress surrounding the absence of her parents. It will be almost a year after their memories were restored and she had only seen them twice more, and both still much awkward for all of them.

Logically, she understood their initial aghast reaction; there were times she herself was appalled when she deeply contemplated what she had done. She knew time would help their family go forward. She could not really debate with her parents when they also wanted to make use of the distance by still staying in Australia, in order to deal with what had been revealed to them.

At any rate, she had managed to easily roll off the issue over her shoulder whenever Harry or Ron or other Weasleys would inquire about her parents. Her fumble on displaying the true stinging emotion regarding the situation of her parents startled even herself. She inwardly cursed at the vulnerable state invoked by her current companion. She did not realise that she had lapsed into silence until she heard Minerva smoothly addressed her internal examination.

"Many families have more than geographical distance separating them after the war. But I am quite certain that you have grasped at such fact a long time ago. And found out that the consolation would not do. That the aching had demanded many times for relief. But as there is nothing else to do but let time do the mending, you leave it be and hope it comes sooner."

Hermione had recognised the pragmatic and yet understanding manner Minerva had voiced the process she underwent to dealt with the situation. Actually, she staggered a bit at the uncanny precision of the woman regarding her struggle. But she reminded herself that the woman is Minerva McGonagall…

The woman who fought and survived three wars. Therefore, she knows more than anyone else of war aftermath. This very same fact also made her utterly sad for the older witch. Hermione had one war and it was more than enough for her to almost become insane with the wretchedness that it brought.

Despite the busy ongoing in her life the last 12 months with her work, and with running away from Minerva, she is well aware how some things from the war would still afflict her. The damaged relationship with her parents is a dominant one undoubtedly. Just as her _'mudblood'_ scar, which at times would imprison her just by knowing its there on her arm, despite the well casted glamour. As she could not get it healed…

Hypatia informed her that it requires special ritual; one she cannot afford because it entails too complicated details. She had put it aside and even considered it as her permanent war souvenir. She supposed that everyone has one. Sometimes, invisible ones…

Apart from Minerva who she had told last year, only Ron and Fleur saw it at the Shell cottage following their escape. And she knew that both actually thought that she had long gotten it healed. But who is really fully healed of their war wounds and scars…?

She thought of Harry and not just about his forehead scar. With all of his moving on in life, of Auror and Marriage, sometimes he would share a certain expression with her over seeing a sweeping black robes or a shaggy dog. She would know that Harry was being swept with the ripped feeling of surviving the war while others did not… **And Minerva had three times of that…!**

"Anyway…" Hermione pulled herself from her rumination and continued with her update on her parents' whereabouts. "When they do come back it won't be here, not in this house, not even in London. Dad wants somewhere in Brighton. They want to sell this house. I get how it can't be that simple to just come back here and 'pick up' their old lives. Maybe not staying in London would be better for them. But we'll see…"

She sighed in resignation and in a way to end the topic. Minerva merely nodded at the dismissal and she was thankful for that. She paused and turned to face the older witch who had followed her further into the living room mechanically. "Do you want something to drink? Tea?" she asked.

"No, but thank you." Minerva responded distractedly as she moved towards one wall that held full-stacked bookshelves from floor to ceiling.

"They used to be in my room but when I went to Hogwarts my parents sort of brought it out here. They said it served to counter my absence. Actually I packed them away, before you know, before I took off. I retrieved them from the storage just few months ago. I thought I would bring them to my flat but I realised I don't have the space there so I brought them back here."

Hermione watched Minerva ran her fingers on the spines of her books. She inwardly cringed at the disparity of her collection compared to what had been extended to her at the McGonagall private library. But she shut her mouth and said nothing about it and instead just observed Minerva pulled one slightly abused volume. She smiled to see that amongst them, Minerva got the one she had read multiple times. Definitely the most number of times…

"Notre-Dame de Paris" Minerva read the title as she turned to face her.

"Yea, it's more popular as— **The Hunchback of Notre-Dame."**

" **The Hunchback of Notre-Dame."**

Hermione beamed when they both said the title at the same time. She moved closer to Minerva and peered at the volume currently held by pale long fingers.

"My parents brought me to France for the first time when I was just six. When I turned seven, I asked for that book. I barely understood the language but I read that and stubbornly refused the English version. As my French got better through time and I re-read the book again and again, I discovered happily some details I earlier missed. It became a habit eventually, which explains its worn state."

When Hermione looked back at Minerva's face, she found thin lips formed into a smile that rolled into a full grinning one. Then she realised that Minerva was actually straining to hold her laughter. Quite consciously, she asked the woman what she had found amusing.

"Most kids were just learning to read in their own language at that age, but you were already pushing into your second one." Minerva finally let out her laugher. "And why I am not really surprised to learn of such charming fact about you?"

"Hey, I am an only child who likes to read instead of watching television all day."

Hermione humorously protested and she could not help herself but playfully reached for Minerva's unoccupied hand. Likewise, her heart could not help the electric lurch at seeing the laughing beautiful face of Minerva. Oh how she had missed **this Minerva**.

"When television reached Scotland, I believe I was already working at the Ministry." Minerva grinned in retort. And shook her head partly in obvious age citation, and partly over Hermione's astounding diligence at such young age.

"So you also read all day… Tsk. Tsk. Tsk…" Hermione ignored Minerva's clear attempt to flag their age difference. Instead she smartly countered with one of their most **commonalities** — reading.

"And ran across fields and climbed stone hills in the summer…" With blithesome tone, Minerva poked at their differences with a challenge whilst she put back the cherished novel back into its place.

"Would you teach me how to climb hills…?" Hermione artfully responded to the posted challenge. Then she reached for Minerva's other hand and interlaced them and mentally observed if the woman would dislodge their hands. But Minerva actually held them tighter.

"I heard the brilliant Gryffindor is afraid of heights…" Minerva remarked with a good-natured jab.

"I'm not brilliant at flying if that's what you meant." Hermione bit the bait, fully knowing that it could be the top **difference** she has with Minerva, as the older witch was said to be known as superb in flying. And the brazenly rally back by saying, "Perhaps the **only** thing others could easily best me…"

"And Divination." Minerva deadpanned.

"And Divination." Hermione laughed loudly at the retort from her intentional coaxing of Minerva to call on her haughty answer. There's really nothing like jabbing with Minerva.

"You should have copied Harry and Ronald tactics of unleashing their creativity to pass the subject by inventing their readings." Minerva enjoyably revealed to her.

"Harry told you that?" Hermione gasped.

"He did. He also told me how he did not attempt to convince you to skirt through the subject. He said he wanted to save himself from your lecture on concept of true learning and not have extra lessons on Hogwarts: A History."

"That bugger! I'm going to hex him." She objected in mock aghast, which lead Minerva to let out more laughter.

"No, Harry did not say the last part but I knew that's exactly what you'd tell him had he found the courage to 'tutor' you in Divination!"

The rich sound of amusement and the gleaming emerald eyes crawled all over Hermione. The sensation led her to uncensored words that slipped past her lips. "I really wish I was a student the same time you were a student at Hogwarts…"

"In 1942?" Minerva wickedly teased her.

"In 1942." Hermione smilingly but seriously responded. She thought of how she would have been at Minerva's side from thereon. Grindelwald bloodbath included… Maybe then, Minerva need not teach herself to play self-sufficient role every damn minute in her life… Maybe then, the woman would have accepted the love she had long offered.

"But Miss Brightest Witch, you'd have a problem, my school marks would have gotten in your way… You would have hated me for the rivalry…" Minerva chuckled.

"Never." She shook her head in earnest.

What Hermione wanted to say was, _**'I would never hate you because I am certain that I would have fallen in love with you regardless of what timeline or circumstances or dimension…'**_ But she knew such confession would only make Minerva bolt. So she contented herself with obfuscation.

"Never my school marks would matter as yours would be all above them?" Minerva continued with her teasing.

Hermione again shook her head as Minerva's quip definitely had her heart deeper in splendid ride. At the same time, she knew she had walked backwards and pulled Minerva through the stairs quite astutely while they were exchanging banters. Despite the easy candor they are having now, Hermione is much cognizant of the more serious venture she had engaged from the moment she asked the older witch to leave Hogwarts with her.

"You want tea?"

"No, but thank you. And you asked me that already."

"I know. I was just making sure."

"I'm good."

"Good."

Hermione continued pulling Minerva in the hallway that would lead them to her bedroom. Suddenly midway, Minerva jerked back and dislodged the young woman's hold on her as she came into realisation of their destination and what was implied of such course.

"Hermione, I have no idea what… why I came here… I… I should…" Minerva wrapped her arms around herself in scuffle for preservation "…Should go back to Hogwarts."

Hermione watched Minerva slowly backtracked to leave…

* * *

End of Chapter 

Year 1999 | Commonalities and Differences

* * *

A/N:

\- Hypatia Allis is my creation, will mention her for few more times as the story goes.

\- Again, these are all JK Rowling's and I'm just borrowing and spinning them to my liking.


	14. The Second One

**Year 1999 | 2nd Seventh of May**

**Still the same evening**

* * *

"Minerva…"

Hermione softly interrupted and watched Minerva paused in her retreat. And watched emerald eyes refused to meet hers...

With formed decision to take what she could, what Minerva would extend to her, she delicately imparted a daring confrontation…

"We both know why you've allowed yourself to come here Minerva. Why you've let me take you from all of them."

"Hermione… I've… I've…."

Hermione cut the short distance between them and observed the almost panicked emerald eyes struggled then failed to maintain eye contact with hers. She gently dislodged the pale hands from self-embrace and clasped them with hers. She patiently waited for green eyes to meet her brown ones and when Minerva maintained them down casted, she softly tugged at their hands to communicate her desire to get her undivided attention. When finally Minerva lifted her emeralds, Hermione went ahead and plunged…

"Minerva I want you, and **YOU KNOW** it. Just as you want me, and **I KNOW** it."

She heard the unmistakable gasp from Minerva and watched emerald eyes attempted to gather her scattered control… or how to hide the desire in them… But Hermione pushed forward the proposition…

"How about we take what we want tonight?"

"Hermione…?"

She heard Minerva breathlessly and questioningly uttered her name. The woman also untangled their hands, possibly in an effort to free herself from conflicting emotions. She watched Minerva lifted one hand to the wall beside them to seemingly find leverage. The other went back to clutch herself across the stomach.

Hermione made quick calculation of Minerva's actions… That despite being so unsure at the moment, the woman will not anymore run off. This made Hermione firmer of her decision and so she unreservedly expelled vagueness.

"Yes. I want to be with you Minerva. **Tonight**."

"Hermione you canna possibly say that! Because…because tomorrow would come… And then I… You… We…"

The last little space between the two women vanished when Hermione pressed closer. She lifted her hands to the older woman's pale neck and clasped them behind it. Meanwhile, Minerva's hand that was earlier fixed on the wall moved to one of Hermione's arms so uncertain to hold or push away, but ended up clutching the arm. The other hand that was earlier hugging her own stomach involuntarily went to Hermione's hip.

"Minerva, that's precisely what I'm saying. Just tonight, we can have it." Hermione softly spoke these words with right amount of emphasis on the word 'tonight. Then she inwardly smiled when she felt Minerva clutched her hip tighter, telltale of her assent.

"What happens tomorrow?" Minerva inquired just as softly even with creased forehead in apprehension.

"You return to Hogwarts. I return to my flat. But tonight, you are just Minerva, spending the night with Hermione." She replied assuredly and waited for the older woman to come to terms to what they both knew already…

Mentally, Hermione added— Tomorrow I return you to the entire wizarding world, as they would need their venerated leader... As for me, I'll have another memory to torment and console me through my days and nights. **But I'll take tonight if that's all you could give…**

Hermione gave Minerva one last window to back out by not advancing for as long as she could hold on. But when emerald eyes unmistakably turned into openly yearning ones, she reached for Minerva's two hands and resumed towards her bedroom.

When they shut the doors after they've entered, she sat Minerva on the edge of the bed without breaking eye contact and then straddled the woman. She returned her hands around Minerva's neck and she happily sighed when simultaneously two hands enveloped her waist. For long several minutes they seemed to be so content to gaze at each other…

"May I?" Hermione asked for permission to free luxurious black hair from its confinement. When Minerva nodded, she waved her hand to magically banish all pins. Then she relished running her fingers through them and wondered when was the last time the woman voluntarily worn it freely in public.

After awhile, she asked another question, "Will you?" She knew Minerva understood that she had asked her to drop her de-glamour charm. She knew that somehow, Minerva is also remembering how devoid her face had been the last time they held each other this way.

"Will you?" Minerva asked back.

"You will let me?" She asked in surprise that Minerva would want her to literally be the one to strip off her _**'mask'**_. Minerva nodded, and before she could ask the technical magic it entailed, she received the information.

"You have to take down the _Stabile charm_ before lacing _Revelio_ over _De-Glamour_. Then cast a second but this time, lace _De-glamour_ over _Revelio_."

Hermione palmed her wand but before she did the spell on Minerva, she first casted one on herself to remove her own glamour that hid the evidence of her sleep deprivation and other distress— including the concealment on **all of her scars**.

Their eyes bore at each other as she proceeded to softly but clearly say the necessary incantation to drop Minerva's. When she was done, she can also see how tired the woman is. Nonetheless, she was still thunderstruck at the overwhelming beauty in front of her…

Hermione's brain says that even in their magical world, at Minerva's current age, the woman should not really look someone in mid-thirties? The woman should at least look one decade older. It got to have a link to the woman's magical core that is unknown or too rare with wizards and witches. Perhaps that is precisely the reason why Minerva resorted to constant concealment.

A tremor ran through her spine at the thought of how Minerva let her see her true appearance… The raw beautiful face of Minerva and the notion of how possibly long ago the woman had shown this to anyone else had driven her hopeless heart into deeper breadth.

"Very brilliant." She said, but she really meant very beautiful. " _Communal charms_ are more than twice as effective and undetected but not as common because of the perceived difficulty to cast."

Hermione deliberately disguise her admiration as she remembered how Minerva dismissed her attribution on her physical appearance when she remarked on it last year. She already guessed how Minerva would rather not talk about it, so she went and be a nerd.

"But casting _communal charms_ is not really complicated and could be quite simple if one is aware which ones are permitted for permutation. But I understand why most would just make subsequent charms."

"Thank you Charms Master." Minerva grinningly responded.

"As if you don't have mastery in Charms." Hermione grinned back in her counter.

Hermione could see the surprise at Minerva's expression of how she knew. During her apprenticeship with Filius, the good professor revealed to her that powerful wizards and witches usually have multiple masteries but would really just carry the title of one field they are most proficient— like Minerva. The woman has Charms and Runes but both titles are unknown as the woman was far content with one. Who wouldn't when you hold the top spot in that field?

"I did not go further than level one AND I do not hold the number one spot. A brilliant young lady does."

"Not in Charms, true. But in Transfiguration you do. And they say yours as top rank overshadows all top ranks of other fields."

"That's unwarranted and unmerited correlation. Besides, people just like to exaggerate."

"I don't think so. Tell me, how many challenges you took after the standard exams?" I took more than tenfold the volume, which had me exhausted at the end of the third examination day. I was surprised the result overpassed Dumbledore's, but I am much certain that it was way below yours."

"I just took two additional challenges to get level 1, I needed it for the Ministry job transfer I wanted."

"That's your Charms and you know I was asking your Transfiguration."

When Hermione was studying for her final examinations, she had wondered about Minerva's in Transfiguration. The fact that Dumbledore's held the number 1 record for so long obviously meant how remarkable they were, but Minerva had overtaken them. If she would be honest, her studying so hard had something to do with how she wanted to make Minerva proud. She knew she was going to pass but she wanted to at least attempt to get into the top rank list.

At onset, Klyde and Filius explained how the first part of the final exam is the standard one, wherein no less than _exceeds expectation_ mark is required to pass the mastery. Then the examinee will proceed to the additional challenges/exercises where the results determine the ranking.

Official records of the exercises and the raw score are sealed as the examinee only get a pass or fail result. But if one made the list of top ranks, the Department Record releases your rank… When she landed on top in Charms, she was genuinely surprised… When she overtook Dumbledore's, she was extremely beyond surprised…

"So how many did you do Minerva at your Transfiguration challenges?" Hermione asked again.

"I took as many as I could, same as you did…"

"I told you, I did a little more than 10 times equivalent of the standard exam. How about you Transfiguration Master of all? Will you tell me?"

She was too curious about Minerva's Mastery Exam. She knew asking Minerva the volume is not in violation of the rule of confidentiality vow. But she could see that Minerva is debating hard internally…

Now she is not only interested to know how many Minerva did, but very curious why Minerva is obviously hesitant to reveal them. But since she would never force the woman for something like this, she decided to let go. "Minerva, you don't have to tell me. It was just plain curiosity on my part."

"I want to tell you Hermione… But no one else to know, alright?"

"Nobody knows?"

"Albus knew, so as Griphook and Ollivander. Merlin knows how. I was just glad that they kept quiet and knew I didn't want anyone else to know.

"I won't tell a soul. Cross my heart."

"You know how International Wizarding Education Board construct these exams right?

"Yes, via the mastery chest of trial. A box that stores the thousands of questions and practical exercises from various schools and nameless masters that laced with ancient magic guard for confidentiality and anti-fraud. As none really knows how it started because it predates all writings, I supposed the creator or creators had used similar magic of the sorting hat of Hogwarts. But Klyde refers to it as the chest of old doom."

She heard Minerva chuckled and she herself chuckled when she heard Minerva say, "Chest of Old Doom is the name I invented when I was Albus' apprentice. I told him I would call it Chest of Old Doom as homage to him and his ever apocalyptic association to me. Albus simply adapted the name, started referring to it as such with his later apprentices."

"Right, so how many?" Hermione returned to the question.

"There's really no going around your brilliant mind." Minerva playfully rubbed their noses. "Right then… Well, the three-day examination afforded me quite some time to do a lot of the exercises that the chest of trial would give me."

"How many Minerva?"

"It— ran out of exercises."

"What…?"

"I did everything the chest of trial asked just as the morning session of the third day ended."

"YOU DID ALL OF THEM AND STILL HAVE THE AFTERNOON SESSION FREE!"

"I already told you that at 14, I could wandlessly make myself into obscurus in mere seconds. Do you really think there's something I would not know how to transfigure with a wand on hand? And coming from several months of studying and practicing?"

"Wow. Yeah, wow."

Hermione knew that Minerva is the most exceptional Transfiguration Master. But she could not believe how much masterful the woman is at such field. She was utterly amazed at this woman's prowess. Utterly amazed!

Then she felt Minerva's lips on hers, softly grazing hers. When it lifted from hers, she was left to whisper again, "Wow."

They both chuckled and when it died down, they moved to meet for another tender kiss. Just plush lips lightly touching thin lips. "I really miss your lips on mine." Hermione murmured and she finally pressed her mouth harder and opened them in time to let Minerva's tongue enter.

They spent undetermined time just kissing each other like they were doing a long slow dance. After they paused kissing, in order to have better look at each other's faces, Minerva magically banished Hermione's clothes… almost half a second before Hermione banished hers…

Their actions had them laughed aloud. And they laughed even more after they saw that they both neatly placed each other's clothes on the armchair located at one corner of the room, including their shoes that landed side by side.

When that laughter also died down, Hermione whispered, "I really miss your naked body against mine."

At hearing this, Minerva stood up after she made sure that Hermione was secured in her arms, and then got them properly into bed.

Hermione felt her naked back touched the mattress and Minerva's equally naked body pressed on top of her and she moaned or they both moaned at the exquisite sensation.

Hermione knew that she lost all her faculties except the feel of Minerva's lips, tongue, hands, and body on hers…

She equally responded with her lips, tongue, hands and body while underneath Minerva…

When Minerva started travelling down her body, she knew she flushed furthermore. Delightful bumps appeared on every inch of her skin as Minerva's hands and lips passed them in adulation.

When Minerva settled between her legs and ran her tongue on the insides of her thigh, moans tore out from her throat… And shortly, her supplications followed, "Minerva, please… Minerva…"

"Yes, darling." She heard the answer in much low Scottish brogue before Minerva's mouth started descending on her for a taste…

The combination of yearlong craving for Minerva, the warm sensation of Minerva's mouth, and the mere notion that Minerva is feasting on her is more than Hermione can take… Very, very quickly it pushed her to the brink and the deliciousness of it all had her exploded…

When the blinding light eased a bit, Minerva's hand started to knead her most sensitive area, and she felt her left thigh caressed by Minerva's lips in an almost idolizing manner… She wanted to pull Minerva up to kiss her but massive tremors cascaded on her and she lost control of her body when long fingers entered her… A couple of ins and outs and she was back at moaning and begging for release… And in response to her entreaty, Minerva's mouth joined the fingers at its marvellous onslaught. This proved to be enough and threw her over the edge for the second time...

Panting and trying not to die from lack of oxygen, Hermione regulated her breathing as she comes down from such high. She dragged her eyes open and reached for Minerva's shoulder before the woman could start transporting her into a third splendid tide.

"Minerva, come up here." Hoarse voice from Hermione's lips requested to the woman who was still nestled between her legs with head pressed into one of her thigh. "I want to touch you." She tugged a little bit harder at Minerva's upper arms when the woman did not immediately move.

For couple of seconds more, Minerva just nuzzled her thigh. But on her next tugging, Minerva glided up her body with grace of her animal form, and kissed her way up, and then crashed their lips together. But second before they did, Hermione caught aroused glassy emerald eyes fighting back something else. She pulled back a little and knew that definitely there was something in there apart from desire.

"Minerva, are you—?"

"Just kiss me…" Minerva cut off her sentence and once again captured her lips in a slow but deeply absorbing kiss. Hermione attempted to pull back again as she wanted to check Minerva but the woman intruded with a plea, "I just need you to kiss me darling…"

When Minerva's appeal laced with heavy tenderness as such, Hermione could do nothing else but acquiesced and kissed back with all her passion.

The initially slow kissing had turned relentless and Minerva's tongue ardently engaged with hers, not giving a millimeter of space or a second of respite, thus swallowing her every moan. Hermione tried to roam her hands on Minerva's but one of the woman's hand had them clasped above her head.

Not long, Hermione felt Minerva's legs pushed open hers and she finally tore her mouth away when Minerva's fingers entered her once again.

"Minerva, I don't think I can anymore…" Hermione exclaimed as Minerva pushed inside her and swiped a thumb over her sensitive bud.

"Ye can… I want to make love to you again darling…" Minerva whispered in her rich brogue and then slowly ran her tongue at Hermione's jaw up to the ear.

Hermione felt her muscles jerked at Minerva's words and ministrations. And then when the woman licked and nibbled on that spot behind her ear, she felt her body set ablaze. But somehow, she fought not to be swept right away.

"I want… I want to touch you Minerva..." Hermione managed to speak her need as she tried to free her hands from the older woman's grasp. She was itching to claw and skim Minerva's smooth skin and feel the crave she knew that's present at the woman's centre. But Minerva would not yield. For several more moments, Minerva just continued on her luscious assault on Hermione's body.

"Please I need... I need to love you Minerva..." Unbidden words blathered from Hermione's fully aroused self and Minerva shifted one leg and ultimately gave Hermione a room to touch her too. The instant she did, Hermione's fingers slipped inside her and the rest of the world vanished for the two of them. Together they moaned and pushed each other into utter rapture as they called each other's names…

Hermione did not know how long she was suspended in that moment of consummation but when she came into some manner of consciousness, she felt boneless and entirely short-winded, and very close to falling asleep.

Hermione was mindless of anything else except the feeling of gratification swirling around her brought by the fact that currently she is with the woman who had captivated her body, heart and soul... The woman she is completely in love with— who had snuggled under her chin and currently running one hand on her thigh…

Hermione yawned in wonderful fatigue and instinctively moved her hand that was resting from above her head to run through Minerva's hair. On the third stroke, Hermione frowned at the quiver she thought she felt.

"Minerva, you're shaking…?" Hermione asked in confusion after she brought both her hands on Minerva's back and indeed confirmed the quiver. "Tell me what's wrong…"

"Just hold me please… hold me…" After hearing such supplication, the sleepiness caused by their lovemaking activities vanished as concern for the woman increased a thousand times. Hermione wrapped her arms tighter around the woman she loves and began a soothing caress on the smooth skin of Minerva's back.

But somewhere in Hermione's guts, a dreadful feeling also flared up at Minerva's pained and torn voice. Nevertheless, Hermione shelved it and focused on Minerva, as nothing is first before the woman in her arms.

Minerva's trembling and her firm clutching of herself to Hermione got more pronounced as seconds drummed by. Hermione's worry rose integrally as she realised that whatever's plaguing Minerva had apparently made her abandoned her world-renowned self-sufficiency. The most alarming thought brought Hermione to an internal promise to give Minerva deliverance from whatever it is.

"Minerva… Just tell me…" She softly asked and ran her fingers through the woman's luxurious hair and brushed her lips on its crown.

At first, the only response Hermione received is the intensified hold of Minerva on her. Clutching to her body even more if that was possible… Then she felt splash of tears on her chest, evidence that Minerva failed to hold them anymore.

It dawned on Hermione that for all the power and brilliance of Minerva McGonagall, the woman is most likely confounded on how to ask for what she desperately needed. The woman probably never asked anything from anyone, much more on grave matters that had her trembling… If her inference is accurate, she knew she needed to be the one to provide the delicate stepping slabs for the woman, as Minerva would never just come forth.

"Minerva… Darling, allow me to make it alright… Tell me… Please darling…"

For undetermined minutes, severe silence dominated the room except the sound from her stroking of the woman's hair and back, and of their breathing. Hers in suspension type and Minerva's in an almost strangled one…

And then she heard Minerva's tormented murmur. Her brows knitted to decipher what it was, as she dare not ask Minerva to repeat; the woman may suddenly withdraw and completely shut down. The very last thing Hermione wanted to happen.

"Fault on what, darling?" Hermione tenderly asked after she was sure that 'my fault' were Minerva's murmured two words.

Once again, Minerva met her with silence and she patiently waited for the answer. At the same time, her mind started conducting a hunt for relevant details for such two-word concession, but the doorways presented are far too many.

' _Is Minerva blaming herself for Albus death? And Amelia? And Severus? And others?'_

' _Is Minerva sentencing herself for the entirety of the war?'_

' _Is the burden of war aftermath too heavy now? Unlike before she didn't have to carry it all by herself…?_

' _ **Is this about them?'**_

The last thought led Hermione to what she knew she saw that accompanied Minerva's aroused glassy emerald eyes. Something was there that the woman was fighting back…

Hermione rapidly made a mental cross-examination of several matters she knew and had seen… She discarded details and expanded details... Then her reliable logic pierced together some of it…

Her own heart almost stopped at the realisation and all the implications that came with it…

She momentarily took hold of her own control before she began in her most tender voice she could muster, so as to not panic Minerva… and perhaps herself…

"You knew I splinched that night…?"

Hermione herself did not know if she was really asking, as she already knew that that was it. But she felt Minerva violently jerked, then after a while nodded her head in response…

She waited if the woman would lift her head to look at her but instead, Minerva buried further into her chest. Then the increased tremors told Hermione that Minerva just let out more tears. Tears in silent cries in attempt to shroud it, but the trembling betrayed the woman. Once again, she placed a soft kiss on Minerva's crown to give the woman some sense of assurance.

"Harry told you?"

"No."

Hermione thought back on that day and deduced on possible ways that Minerva would know…

"Dolly realised I splinched and told you?"

"Yes."

"You followed me here?"

"No."

"You thought I went to Grimmauld?"

"Yes."

"You gave Kreacher the Dittany to give to Harry?"

"Yes.

"Why didn't you bring it here?"

"I froze at Grimmauld— saw bloodied note— Harry left it… I— knew 'twas yer blood… I just knew… Then my magic… I canna… I couldna— apparate back— ta the Manor… I summoned Dolly ta get me... My magic— never failed me— 'till that... I— I realised how I canna be there for ye…"

Despite the broken sentences in too heavy accent, Hermione understood the disclosure of the events… Minerva knew. Followed her with remedy. But mistakably to Grimmauld. Found her note. Then the woman froze.

Now, to understand what it meant for her…? For Minerva…? For her and Minerva…? She'll sort them out a bit later because right now, Minerva needs her, needs her assurance…

"It's okay. I'm okay darling."

"You could have died."

"I didn't."

"You could have died and it was entirely my fault."

"Minerva, look at me." Hermione waited until Minerva lifted her head and had welled up emerald eyes focused on her brown ones. Then she reached down and placed a tender kiss on Minerva's lips before she stated, "We just made love darling. I'm okay. I'm here. I did not die, obviously."

Hermione staggered a bit when emerald eyes hardened before it welled up once again as the woman gritted her teeth in torn anger and misery. "It was my fault darling and I do not know how to forgive myself for that. I drove you away. And intoxicated your mind that you splinched. It was my fault."

Hermione paused as she did not want to further aggravate the situation. She flipped in her head the scenario if she was Minerva. Certainly she would be coursing the same tune. And how something that already happened cannot be discounted by assurance of today because that would be a colossal bullshit. That acceptance of truth is about acceptance of what happened in the past. No less, no more.

"Minerva, it was not entirely your fault. We jumped on unfamiliar plane before we realised that we both had no idea how to handle it. Then we had different ideas of where the destination should be. And when we can't deal with it, we found out we did not know how to land without crashing. It was your fault AND it was mine. It was truly both of ours…"

Hermione sighed, so much for sorting things later when right now they have all descended on her.

"I could have asked you to stay…"

Hermione thought about this supposition and the answer is quite easy to determine on how and where it would really lead them.

"Minerva… If tonight is last year, will you still send me away tomorrow?"

"Yes… I canna not to… I… I had to darling… Ye wouldna listen... But now ye know why…"

**There. The truth of the past is still the truth today.**

"I know... I know you'd be gone by tomorrow's sunrise…"

"Tomorrow… I need to be… You need to be…"

"I know…"

"I canna Hermione… You've stated the reasons yeself before this…"

Minerva made a helpless sweeping gesture of them in bed and of course Hermione understood. Her heart achingly throbbed, as ambiguities have been officially removed.

"I know Minerva…"

Hermione earlier thoughts paraded her mind—

' _Tomorrow I return you to the entire wizarding world… They would need their venerated leader... As for me, I'll have another memory to torment and console me through my days and nights…_ _ **But I'll take tonight if that's all you could give…'**_

Hermione wrapped her arms tighter on Minerva and told herself that **tomorrow** is still not right now.

She still has **tonight** …

She still has **Minerva**.

* * *

End of Chapter 6

Year 1999 | The Second One

* * *

A/N:

\- I totally invented the charms: Stabile (almost permanent), Revelio (Reveal), De-Glamour (aging or lessen the attractiveness) and Communal (combination of charms). If they are actually used in HP then they are JK's as well. Also I just invented the Chest of Trial and the mechanics of Mastery exams.

\- I really like the idea that Minerva is really, really, REALLY superb in Transfiguration.

\- As usual, these are all JK Rowling's and I'm just borrowing and spinning them to my liking.

\- What do you think? Did they just make another mistake? 


	15. The Second One Aftermath

Year 1999 | 2nd Seventh of May

Morning After

* * *

Most of the time, people would gradually stir and dabble between dreams and wakefulness. But this particular morning, Hermione roused at once with full consciousness… Grave consciousness came down on her even before she had her eyes open… along with a certain sensation that can only be characterised as— pain…

Hermione did not physically jerk or bolt when she woke up, but instantly her mind and heart started pouncing violently from the lost of Minerva in her arms— just as promised by daylight...

Hermione's eyes burned quickly by the gathering tears as she felt how she was left carefully tucked in sheets by Minerva; she could almost picture the attention of which the woman had employed.

' _Did Minerva wish she had woken to tell her to stay?'_

' _Or was the woman relieved to not deal with such solicitude?'_

Hermione shifted her body in attempt to chase any warmth left by Minerva but the cold space only pronounced the void that had begun gyrating within her. She buried her face and took a deep breath to collect herself, sadly, it only lead her to the woman's lingering scent blended with the carnal essence of their love making activities. It made her heart throbbed more wildly…

Hermione tried to get hold of the swirling emotions flicking to explode within her. She summoned her will with all her might to get moving… to shove the tears… to brave her reality.

Determined to fight the wretchedness and not get eaten in desolation, she decided to escape it via her usual way— plunge herself into work. On the way to the Ministry, she stopped for a large caffeine fuel and a sandwich and sent Harry an owl. She wrote to him how she intends to spend a couple of hours at the Ministry so he won't worry when he arrives at her flat and not find her there— considering the morning they shared yesterday...

During the early months after the war, Kingsley had the offices open even during weekends to cope with the general mending of Ministry affairs. Employees and even volunteers would be at the building to put in long hours to help put order into their distorted community. Eventually, the hardworking people had cut down as matters started settling down. But for Hermione, she never really abridged her work despite taking two masteries at the same time. In fact, she had clocked in more hours than any staff in their department and completed more output, earning respect from her colleagues; Proving she was more the labelled golden brain.

Hermione is used to seeing couple of fellow employees even on Saturdays. However, this morning, she was not surprised to find the building seemingly deserted. Not when most employees if not all had attended the commemoration last night. She could guess how everyone partied too much, something she knows people had looked forward after a year of fixing the mess, their mess. She expelled the thoughts of last night and dug herself with her work.

Typical of Hermione to be lost at her job with single-mindedness, morning turned noon turned afternoon. When she lifted her head, she noticed a paper plane message on her incoming tray that she did not notice when it came. When she stood to retrieve it, she groaned at the stiffness at her neck as she read the missive.

_..._

_To: Hermione Granger_

_See me at my office when you have time to discuss your work at_ _Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures._

_From: Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt_

...

Hermione checked the time and was surprised to see that it was almost 5 in the afternoon. She knew that the received summon is most likely for Monday and that it only coincided of her being at her office right now. She figured there's nothing wrong if she'd check it on her way out, so she packed her stuff and headed to the Head Minister's office.

"Hi Gil. I received this." Hermione greeted Kingsley's chief of staff, Gil Williams, with the note on her hand.

"Merlin's beard Hermione!"

"Sorry, I didn't mean—"

"No, no, no…" Gil dismissed her apology also with a short wave. He gave her a embarrassed smile, "I just didn't think anyone worked today… considering how late the party went on last night. Are you not hang-over, or sleepy, or tired like everybody else?"

Hermione shook her head once with a smile, and with a slightly pointed look she responded, "You're here Gil." She walked to him as he met her in the middle of the long corridor and watched him re-arranged the papers on his hands.

"I have to." Gil sighed in semi-resignation. "The Minister had a meeting earlier with the governors that had been set by the Headmistress. Hangover or not, one does not cancel a meeting with Minerva McGonagall, right?

Hermione kept her pasted smile on her face, even though finding out that Minerva is at the office has made her short footed. And torn between wanting and not wanting to see the woman. She started to back out, telling Gil that she supposed the message was for Monday since the Minister is occupied and that she'll just return by then.

"No, he's free already." Gil interrupted her, "They left, the meeting ended quarter-hour ago. I think he's just finishing few correspondences. He even bid me to leave." Gil shrugged his shoulders as he added, "Though it's up to you if you want to just come back on Monday, but you're here already."

Hermione knew that she has time before Harry and Ron would be at her flat to fetch her. She decided that it'd be logical to see Kingsley now; the Minister is available anyway. She told Gil and the wizard told her to just go in and then bid her goodbye; muttering that his wife would hex him if he fails to be home before seven and that he still has a package to collect at Diagon Alley. She wished him good luck to beat 7pm for a 'hex-less' night and they both chuckled.

The wizard is a Hufflepuff who graduated Hogwarts about 5 years before she arrived there. She met him last year when Kingsley gave him the job; he was the one who arranged her NEWTS after she was allowed to take it ahead of others. She always liked the fact that the wizard is almost as tough looking as Kingsley, but she had come to know that he is so devoted to his wife that she could make him haste like no other. When she reached Kingsley's office, she knocked twice before she heard a come in, pushed open the door and stepped in.

"Sir, good afternoon. You asked to—"

The Minister is not alone. And she paused mid-sentence at the surprise.

"Hermione, what are you doing here?"

She heard the Minister's question, and inwardly got hold of herself to come up with a response upon seeing Minerva McGonagall still with Kingsley. Apparently, Gil did not mention that, or perhaps he too thought the woman had left as well. And the said woman is almost— just almost as surprised as her, but way better at recovery.

"Um, good afternoon Headmistress." She managed a greeting and then she forcefully planted her gaze at the wizard and not at the emerald eyed witch elegantly sitting at one armchair. "Sir, you asked to see me?" Hermione unsurely answered, raised the small note, "But I apologize for the interruption. I'll just—"

"Yes, I do. I want to discuss something. I just didn't expect that you're here. I wouldn't if not for my utmost dislike of the Headmistress' ire if I don't show up at our meeting." Then Kingsley laughing added, "On second thought, the governors were so agreeable earlier, did you count on that Minerva? They were too sleepy and too tired that they just agreed with you? And Merlin how come you seemed to be the only two who do not have a problem getting up today to work?"

'Bloody hell if you only knew Kingsley', Hermione thought.

"I'm not the one unavailable next Saturday Kingsley," Quite irritated tone from Minerva sounded off. Hermione could not resist but drew her eyes towards the woman.

"Minerva, should I reschedule asking Hestia…?"

"I apologise, the intent is not such…" Hermione watched the woman gracefully stood up and told Kingsley, "Do send me the revised manifest early next week. I promise to send back with the final review the day after... I'll leave you with your meeting." Then turned to her, "Miss Granger— good afternoon as well."

"Minerva, wait, would you lend me few more minutes of your time? I actually need your opinion on this."

Hermione watched the woman raised her eyebrow at the Minister's words. And watched the wizard raised his hands in light-hearted yield with a short laugh at the older woman's obvious mock at his words of solicitation.

"Yes Headmistress, if you'd be so kind to give your opinion and actually help me with your influence."

This time Hermione forehead creased at Kingsley's words. _Opinion on what? Opinion about her? Influence to whom? Influence on her?_

Before any of them say something next, a knock stole their attention. She turned to direct her gaze at the door and instantly felt Minerva's gaze on her back. She just knew that behind the woman's walls that she had seen currently worn by the Headmistress, these green eyes are surveying her stance with intensity. She tried her damnest to show unconcerned pose but a fleeting inane thought attacked her of how she would love to feel the woman hug her from behind—in public, like at the Minister's office. The mad wishful thinking nearly let out a miserable laugh from her lips.

The knock repeated and thankfully stole back her thought. She heard Kingsley grant entry to whomever at the door and her mouth curved into a smile when she saw who had arrived.

"Harry, come in! I don't believe you've managed to work today? Not with how you were drinking and dancing last night." Kingsley addressed Harry good-naturedly.

"Hello everyone. I'm just fetching Hermione to our dinner date. I bumped into Gil at the entrance, told me that I'll find her here. And nope Sir, I was downright incompetent to comb my hair earlier, let alone do work."

Harry kissed her on the check, moved and kissed Minerva on her cheek, shook hands with Kingsley, and then moved back beside Minerva and took one elegant hand into his. "I didn't get the chance to thank and bid you good bye last night. You vanished; Filius said the wards signaled him that you left Hogwarts."

"How many bottles did you wipe me out Harry? I warned you of the liquor's enticement and its— effects. I can see how you fell into its trap."

Hermione took note of Minerva's gloss disregard of Harry's remarks on her leaving Hogwarts. She was thinking of how veteran the woman is at diversion but then her thoughts were stolen by the short deep chuckles coming from the witch at Harry's mock guilty expression...

The less than 24 hours period from exclusively having the woman is not helping Hermione to block the flutter that spiked through her spine. She commanded herself to not be the besotted fool that she is and pressed her brain to properly function and turned her concern to her best friend.

"Are you alright, Harry? You could have owled that we cancel dinner."

"I'm fine, Mione. Thankfully, Ginny had been patiently handling me sober-up potions. It finally kicked in." Harry told her and then turned back to Minerva. "You could have warned me better how traitorous your whisky is. Though Hermione did tell me how it might not be good for me. But you know, some things should not be missed-out, despite the guaranteed headache!"

"I agree Harry, it would be a pity to miss Minerva's excellent whisky! But everyone introduced to them had fallen as unsuspecting victims one way or another. The incredibly smooth alcohol taste is as deadly as the owner." Kingsley laughingly stated. Then turned to her, "You should try it Hermione."

' _Oh I did have a taste of the deadly owner and she had a taste of me.'_

The dirty thoughts that ran through Hermione's mind had herself biting the inside of her check. She needed to lower her head lest be read thoroughly by emerald eyes. She forced a noncommittally nod and then ushered their conversation back to official Ministry matters with all her might. She started to say how she would just report back on Monday for the meeting. But Kingsley shut down her intent.

"Could you spare about 15 minutes?" Kingsley spoke, "I'd like to talk to you now so you can already have tomorrow to think about what I'm going to discuss that would be needing your answer."

"I'll step outside—"

"No, Harry, stay put." Kingsley interrupted, "I think it would help if you're also here for your opinion. Lets sit, please."

Apparently her boss wants to have the meeting now— about her— where Minerva and Harry's presence matter… She sighed silently and headed to take the seat farthest from Minerva with subtlety.

"Mr. Gregory Bennette talked to me about a month ago." Kingsley started and paused to make sure that he has her attention.

The named wizard is the Department Head at the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, and Hermione's boss since she joined the Ministry. Immediately she worried that it has something to do with her performance as the quiet old man never really talked to her more than few exchange of work-related information. Her brows knitted as she cracked her brain of any possible lapses she had committed. Then she was very much surprised with the succeeding statements from Kingsley.

"He is leaving the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures for retirement. He is targeting by end of the year or early next. He recommended you Hermione to replace him. He asked me again last night to start talking to you about it. He knows how you would eventually apply for transfer to MLE once you gained your level 3 masteries, so he wants to take advantage of the timing. He said and I quote, _'why not have the Regulation Department benefits from your brilliance until then'._ What do you think?"

Hermione was not sure how she had shaken her head in an almost animated gesture to make clear of what Kingsley just said. But knew that she did so. And not only that, the unexpected information had her ability to form a sentence suspended.

Immediately she thought how her entry at the department was at first construed controversial as she was expected to be working at MLE right away with her NEWTs and Golden Trio stint. But the handful of employees at the Regulation and Control are actually great people who did not bother with the nonsense of it. They in fact communicated to her how glad that she'll be part of the team. When Kingsley asked again of what she thinks about the offer, she honestly voiced out her foremost concern.

"Sir, with due respect, may I remind you that I am not even a senior staff? And don't you think that there are good people at the Regulation who are more qualified to take the headship?"

"More senior than you, yes. Good people, yes. Qualified people, yes. But more qualified? Don't you think your boss would know? And I do agree with him. In just several months, you have showed what it takes." Kingsley answered then asked her, "Do you know why your department does not have a Deputy?"

"I thought it was due to the department's meagre size that it does not warrant one. But I'd think that it does limit the department's faculty and misses to create avenue to achieve more."

"See, you're not the department head and you already recognised such." Kingsley exclaimed.

"Sir, it does not mean—"

"No, Hermione, it means exactly that. The regulation and control is not as extensive like say, Law enforcement, but it was established for its critical role in our society. That when left mismanaged, it has the capacity to ignite serious chaos. And I know you have comprehended this, probably in your first month you have joined the Department. Gregory cited some of the suggestions you footnoted in your reports. Or was he lying just to get his retirement ticket without guilt?"

Hermione was utterly surprised and could only shake her head in respond.

"Look, Gregory is the longest employee who served there and he had been very efficient as Department Head. He is wise to stick with his efficient ways lest commit missteps. But the wizard is wiser to recognise that much can be improved that will have a greater impact for our entire community especially at such period. He said it himself that your brilliance could start revamping the department's paradigm to get more things done before MLE steals you. He also believes that your young style would attract other youngsters to take posts at the Regulation and cultivate new generation of ideas."

Hermione thought how it seemed to be a given to his boss and the Minister himself how she would work at MLE one day. Truthfully, she would have accepted the initial MLE post offered by Kingsley had she opted to take a more relaxed pace for her masteries. But right from the start, even when she was just a student at Hogwarts, she has this ardent desire to be of caliber that Minerva could be proud of… Like she was in a hurry to qualify herself to be in Minerva's league…

"What do you both think?" Kingsley turned to the other occupants inside the room and Hermione intentionally directed them to olive eyes and not emerald ones. His best friend had an open smiling face, and encouraging eyes.

"We were just first year when I first heard you say that you can't wait to do something that would at least make the playing field fair for all. This is a clear opportunity Mione… But I know, there maybe other things you want to do, so I'd support 100% of whatever you decide on... You know that."

"Harry! I was hoping you support the Minister." Kingsley pointed at himself and stated humorously, "And tell Hermione that she better accepts it."

"Sorry Sir, Hermione tells us what to do and not the other way around." Harry good-naturedly responded.

"Alright, alright! What do you say Headmistress? You know that both Gregory and I are not really making preposterous offer to Hermione. She has the intelligence and the work attitude for the headship and she can do a lot in that post."

Hermione also followed Kingsley's direction and found serious observing emeralds on her. Suddenly she longed for certain exclusivity with Minerva… and not the Headmistress in the room… she needed to talk and listen to the woman she had in her arms… like how they are whenever they shed their roles… like how they would share their thoughts and discuss them like they have been doing so all their lives….

"Gregory has always been a sensible person. But perhaps Kingsley you should address Ms. Granger's valid concern and tell her how it would entail." Minerva spoke without breaking eye contact with her brown ones.

Kingsley started telling her how Gregory plans to ease her in because although he was certain that no colleagues would object, he plans to make it as formal and evicts contention before hand. She heard Kingsley say how Gregory thinks that her current masteries plus excellent job since joining the department are sufficient basis. She heard him say something about going through deputizing but principally handling the reins for her to display her leadership before officially announcing her boss' retirement.

All the time that Kingsley was detailing how it'll be for her, Hermione also did not withdraw her gaze from Minerva. She had seen how the corner of the woman's lips posed for the slightest smile in the most undetectable manner… She understood what that small gesture communicated to her…

It said: _**This is part of the whys darling… Part of the tangled complications between who we are…**_

She acknowledged the message and gave back a sad smile of her own; equally subtle as the one she had received from Minerva while Kingsley dominated the room with his continued discourse. When he stopped speaking, Hermione momentarily weighed in again what to say although she already knew what she wanted to say. Then she did abandon her hesitancy and spoke directly to Minerva to seek sanction.

"To continue next level for both fields would be impossible?"

"Not impossible. But—"

"Department headship would require more of my time—"

"As undoubtedly you'd lead it with full exertion—"

"If I truly intend to renovate the department and build—"

"A more inclusive society—"

"Which after all is the ultimate objective—"

"Or at the very least a noble effort—"

"But if I insist to continue with two fields—?"

"You'd be lucky to afford 3 hours sleep a night for about two years or so. Then—"

"I'd be dead on my feet."

"Indeed…"

Hermione nodded at Minerva after the final word in their confined exchange. She thought of how she felt she needed to hear them from Minerva despite already coming to the same conclusion… That hearing from Minerva the challenges without slightest pretext made it not daunting but strangely assuring… And how fortifying it was for her to get Minerva's obvious support…

"Wow! Are you two always like that when you discuss transfiguration journals?" She was thrown back into reality and reminded that there are two wizards with them in the room with Harry's jab. Without breaking her gaze at Minerva, she responded to her best friend.

"Oh no Harry, I could never catch up with the Headmistress on her subject of expertise— on any subject actually…" Hermione let out a sincere smile and peculiarly felt at ease with the ongoing dialogue even with the fact that Harry and Kingsley are in the room.

"But Harry, I did tell her how it's just a matter of time that she'll have me falter with her brilliance…"

Minerva response sunk into Hermione's heart. _**Just a matter of time**_ _…_ Suddenly she wanted to crawl into the woman and say that what she is willing to wait for— to work for— to exchange everything— or accept anything— if they will lead her to where and when she could love Minerva freely and be loved back by the woman…

"Is my inference correct that when you accept the post, you'll discontinue your level 2 mastery in Charms?" Kingsley asked and it shook Hermione once again to the here and now.

"She'll discontinue Transfiguration." Harry answered for her.

Hermione was taken aback at how he had guessed correctly. Minerva slightly raised a brow at her and she reluctantly left emerald eyes for olive ones when she felt Harry's hand on hers. "You are better at charms." Harry told her pointedly then he turned to Minerva. "We love you Minerva and Hermione loves Transfiguration above all. But Hermione knows she is extremely incredible at charms."

It took Hermione all effort not to physically shudder at what Harry had said. _**Love—Minerva— Hermione—Above— All…**_ Those words in one sentence spoken aloud, though in different arrangement, and obviously different context still brought Hermione wretched guts into chaos. She mentally cursed her best friend as she tried to come up to say something intelligent. But Kingsley beat her and thrown more fuel into the fire.

"Aren't you Gryffindors mostly known for bravery to just go after what you want and what you most love despite logic?" Kingsley remarked, partly in serious curiosity and partly in amusement.

_Bloody Kingsley!_

"Most of us are. But Hermione is one of the rare Gryffindors who actually took Godric's equally valuable but less popular definition of courage."

_Bloody, bloody Harry!_

"And what might Godric Gryffindor meant about your kind of courage?" Kingsley asked her.

_Bloody, bloody, bloody Kingsley!_

"Sir…" Hermione intercepted and took hold of her facial expression, which she knew in furrowed lines before she continued. "I know it already sounded that I've given you a decision, but may I think about this for few days before we sit down on it again?"

"Of course Hermione. As much as I want you to accept the post, I do not want to force matters as they tend to only sabotage in the long run. After all, lets be upfront with how we do know you're bound to MLE. And you are not the brilliant brain they say you are if you do not know how you are expected to do a lot in there with your brilliance. I do not want to prematurely burn you out. So yes, lets not tangle things in haste if they shouldn't be."

Hermione was a little unsettled with the Minister's words but he nodded in thanks. Quite automatically, she shifted again to Minerva. But she found the woman certainly back behind her walls— with her Headmistress persona full in place. She internally sighed as she misses Minerva… She needs Minerva...

She heard their boss thank them for their time as they got up to initiate their leave. She heard him tell the Headmistress about the manifest they earlier mentioned that he'll send soonest and thanked the woman too for her ever support. He said that he will be leaving shortly as well, and mumbled that he needed to pick up his mother's ring at Gringgotts.

Hermione quick brain connected three interval phrases: _unavailable next Saturday_ , _asking Hestia,_ and _mother's ring_.

Did she just learn that Kingsley would be proposing to Hestia Jones possibly next Saturday? Her face must have shown exactly what she had deduced because Minerva observing eyes withdrawn some of its walls. Then emeralds went to Kingsley and came back to her; the gesture plainly confirmed her supposition. Her surprised expression must be somewhat amusing that Minerva gave her a wink that produced a grin on Hermione's face. She could not believe how in synch her mind sometimes with Minerva's. But obviously Kingsley missed it, and so as Harry who moved towards the woman.

"Ron, Hermione and I are going to Muggle London for dinner. Would you like to join us?" Hermione heard Harry asked Kingsley and Minerva, and then turned and silently asked her, _'You don't mind right?'_

"Thank you Harry but I have an appointment with Griphook." Kingsley answered then added, "But Minerva, perhaps you could be less workaholic for tonight and join them?"

"I have to go back to Hogwarts Harry. Thank you, but maybe some other time?"

"Hogwarts can afford your absence a little more, its Saturday after all. And I can bet that the students are too tired from last night's party to make riot tonight. Please have dinner with us. You have been more than your usual busy self the last 3-4 weeks that I have not talk to you lately…"

Harry's tone of mixed childishness and woe made Hermione look up at her best friend and studied him intently.

"Are you okay Harry?" Minerva quietly asked Harry, which Hermione caught nonetheless. Suddenly, she got worried about Harry and momentarily forgot her uneasiness about Minerva joining them for dinner.

"Yes, I just want to spend time with you and what better way than have you join the Golden Trio in Muggle London. So will you postpone returning to the castle for an hour or two?" Harry grinned but laced of sadness and hint of self-mockery did not escape Minerva nor Hermione.

Questioning emerald eyes turned to her and she understood that Minerva had conveyed that she knew they should not be having dinner together… that the interaction is similar to looping a rope around their necks… and yet had asked if they could tie the rope tighter and let her crash their dinner just this once… for Harry…

Hermione realised that while Harry had made sure to check on her the last couple of weeks, she had not paid as much attention to him in return. She wanted to smack herself for her self-absorption. Of course Harry ever-noble heart would have been visited by massive guilt around this time with all these sorts of anniversary for a lot of unhappy things. That's why Harry had moved their dinner date today instead of their usual schedule of last Saturday of month…

"Join us for dinner please." She heard herself say to Minerva and immediately witnessed Harry's elated face as she felt the pull of the figurative rope around their necks and strangled themselves….

* * *

**End of Chapter 7 | Year 1999 | The Second One Aftermath**

* * *

_Do you have mornings when you can't decide whether to cherish or curse your actions of previous nights?_

* * *

* * *

\- Gil Williams (Kingsley's chief of staff) and Gregory Bennette (Hermione's direct boss) are creations of mine, will see them both in future chapters.

\- Once again, HP is JK's and I am just borrowing and spinning them into my liking.


	16. Muggle Diner

**Year 1999 | 2nd Seventh of May**

**Still The Day After**

* * *

Several minutes later, after they parted ways with Kingsley, they met Ron at the building entrance. Hermione did not know what reaction she actually expected from Ron when Harry told him that Minerva is coming with them to dinner, but his delighted reception was definitely unexpected. She had at least expected awkwardness, but then she knew that Minerva was the one to suggest that George visits Hogwarts as often, and how it extraordinarily helped him deal with his twin's death. Hermione supposed that the byproduct of that is the current general openness of the Weasleys around the woman. That despite the usually closed-off disposition of Minerva McGonagall, the Weasleys had braved one wall because of what she did for George.

Harry had suggested that they go to this **Muggle diner** he passed by one afternoon a few months back while on an errand, which Hermione also knew. Harry went ahead with Minerva but before Hermione could take Ron for side-along apparation, he stopped her with a question.

"Hermione, nothing happened last night?"

"What do you mean?" Hermione held her breath from Ron's disconcerting inquiry.

"You disappeared last night from Hogwarts, although Harry said you bid him goodbye. Were you okay? Did people's exasperating compliments got into you?"

"Ahhh. It was fine. I was fine." Hermione breathed a silent relief and gave Ron an assuring smile. "I wanted— my bed— you know…" She opted for obfuscation with half-truth.

"Oh okay, that's good… Then lets go? I'm starving." Ron responded and grinned at her.

Hermione pulled the necessary concentration and apparated themselves. They landed at one deserted alley, about one block away to their destination, to that **Muggle diner**. Immediately, she assisted Ron to casual muggle clothing. She was about to transfigure hers when she faltered a bit after she lifted her head and saw Minerva.

The woman had already shed her Headmistress' robes and now in transfigured casual clothes; black top long-sleeves tucked in brown pants and she saw the black leather boots she magically took off the woman last night.

"Wow Headmistress! My brothers would never believe how bloody unbelievable you look in muggle clothes." Ron exclaimed with outmost admiration, all the more deserting his vocal filter. "You should shock the students at Hogwarts and I bet you won't have problem with the noise at the great hall anymore."

Despite finding Ron outrageously bold to comment on the Headmistress' appearance, Hermione was thankful for Ron who unknowingly provided her a cover and roused her from her gawking. She dragged her eyes away from Minerva and pushed out the distraction and concentrated in transfiguring her own clothes.

"Thank you, Mr. Wesley. And you look charming as well. But truly, I never had the inclination to cause anyone heart attack, most particularly to current and underage students, and be sent to Azkaban for the unintentional disillusionment."

Hermione heard Ron's gasp at the Headmistress' wicked sense of humour at the double entendre with self-mockery. She also heard Harry's double laughter at Minerva's wisecrack and at Ron's reaction. He further rubbed Ron as he pointedly told him of his reddened face that his mind probably went to the direction where could land him not only to multiple detentions but possible expulsion if he was still a student.

Spike of illogical jealousy attacked Hermione at the mere notion of Minerva seducing anyone— former or current students, under age or not, intentionally or not…

She kept her own eyes away from the woman and pretended to be unaware of their repartee. Her hands itched to shove the woman against the wall and snog her senseless and ripped her damn clothes to touch the body she had made love to last night. She bit her lip at the delicious memory of Minerva's mouth on hers. This is madness. Utterly madness! She berated herself internally and almost jumped when Harry linked his arm on hers and ushered her towards the diner.

Following her and Harry, Hermione reminded herself that the woman with them right now is Minerva McGonagall the Headmistress, the venerated leader of their world... Because despite the almost familial rapport of Harry with the woman, she is certain that that the woman is very different and very far from the beautiful, emotional woman with her last night...

Hermione concentrated on on her steps to the diner and could hear Ron bravely scaling more of Minerva's wall. He sheepishly asked if the woman could consider calling him by his first name as she does with his brother George. And asked furthermore, if he would be allowed to call the woman MG like George does.

Ron's pleasant disbelief was apparent when the older woman gave her consent. Although she cited her strict condition that Ron refrains doing so when they are in the presence of governors and current Hogwarts students as the woman has reputation to uphold on being "The Mean-Strict Headmistress'.

Ron responded that he would never dream to tarnish the 'severe' reputation of 'The Headmistress' and added in a banter that Minerva is 'allowed' to call him by his first name regardless of who is around, Hermione heard Minerva's short but deep chuckle. This had her delved further into Harry's arms as thoughts assaulted her of how she desires to call Minerva _**'**_ **darling'** every damn moment, and damn out loud, for everyone to damn hear it…

After they sat down in a booth, Hermione tried so hard but failed not to look at the woman across her who is currently looking down at the menu. Minerva has her glasses on and her hair still confined in a bun, although the usual strictness is notably absent with a small section on a loose. That slightest alteration together with the muggle clothes had remarkably softened the woman's look, almost eliminated the familiar strict Headmistress; no wonder Ron's jaw dropped at seeing Minerva this way. She almost chuckled at the thought of how Ron's legs would completely fail him if he sees Minerva's true appearance. One that Hermione cannot seemed to un-see anymore despite the full de-glamour charm the woman is wearing. All she can see is the real and bare face of the woman... One that had been with her last year and last night... One who is passionate, tender, vulnerable— and raw... One without the slightest evidence of the public persona... **Just pure Minerva.**

"Do you know already what you want to have?" Minerva asked after green eyes raised, met her brown ones, and then indicated to her unopened menu.

_You. Just you…_

Unbidden thoughts had Hermione clenched her right hand under the table because she is very close to banishing the pins to let luxurious black hair fall, and have her fingers run through them as she did last night. The woman's black top is also not helping as it only highlighted the exposed elegant neck which Hermione at one point clawed when they were pushing each other into the edge last night...

"We'd order for Hermione." Ron who is seated beside her answered Minerva. "Otherwise she'll just order toast and soup. It is how we make sure that at least once a month she eats excessively." Thank Merlin that Ron's words nudged her back into reality and broke her gawking and dangerous thoughts.

"Because she only has coffee, tea and orange juice in her flat." Harry piped in.

"Really Harry? Only…?" Hermione protested.

"Sorry Mione, just yesterday morning you told me so. And that's mostly how it is when I come over at your flat, especially when you are deep into studying and working, which is almost always." Harry responded.

Out of nowhere, Hermione wanted to shout at them and tell them that it was not because of her studying and working… That it was mostly due to the choking feeling she gets when sometimes in the middle of lifting a spoon while eating, all she could see was the time when she and Minerva shared a plate…

"We already told you many times how we can pick-up whatever you need when we do ours if you just tell us. You know I always accompany mom and so it's a non-issue. Do you want to do it tomorrow? I can go with you Mione." Ron butted in.

"I already offered mate, but she says she'll do it herself. But may we could drag her if—"

"Harry! Ron! I will, okay?" Hermione infuriatingly interjected then added in a mumble, "As if everybody is in their right mind this week for their actions to prioritise such chore…"

Hermione found herself quite annoyed at the turn of their conversation. And how in her mind, it breathed life to the notion that if she can't take care of herself, then she can't take care of Minerva… And then she immediately regretted what she had said; naturally she knew her best friends' true intention. She also heard what she might have implied and she smacked herself mentally… She as good as said that she had been acting out of her mind this week— last night included.

"That was very dumb of me, I'm sorry." She sighed contritely. "Guys, I promise to do it tomorrow and not neglect it thereafter." She looked at her two best friends' eyes with sincerity and they promptly dismissed her apology. The two even made a show at getting back to the menu in front of them, and she knew the issue had been closed.

When she turned to Minerva who had taken off her glasses, green eyes bore on her and immediately knew where the woman is heading. Together, they mentally dived back into one of their late conversations last night… while wrapped in each other's arms… before sleep had taken over.

' _Minerva, you have to eat better. We don't need a scale to know that you've lost a lot of weight; I could feel your ribs almost protruding. I don't want you to get sick. So please stop working during mealtime.'_

_Hermione learned from Harry, who learned from Neville that Minerva was almost always missing from the hall, most especially during dinner._

_'I will… I promise…' Minerva softly responded while snuggled under her chin but lifted herself to kiss her. 'But you have to do the same darling. You're also awfully thin...'_

' _I know… I will...' Hermione murmured in between kisses. 'Lets both try to do better about it.'_

A server arrived to get their orders and it broke their eye contact and roused them from memory. Minerva briefly turned to Harry and said, "Harry, please order for me as well. I think I could use a day of excessiveness."

"Really? That's Great, because honestly Minerva you do need more than a day of it." Harry merrily retorted and started placing their orders.

Emeralds returned and focused back on her brown ones in silent communication of how the older witch is making the effort of what they have promised each other. Hermione held the gaze and somehow conveyed the same thing, while Harry and Ron fired off dishes after dishes to the server. When Minerva's eyes widened a bit at the amount of food already ordered and yet the boys proceeded to order more, Hermione let out a smirk.

"We could have just ordered the kitchen." Minerva deadpanned after the server left their table. The quip had her two best friends guffawed and she herself chuckled.

"Don't worry, you'll be amazed how the food will disappear with Ron with us." Harry jested and Ron turned as red as his hair and muttered about observing proper dining etiquette with the Headmistress with them. But then, they can't blame him when after 5 hours; they can't leave as they still have food on the table.

When the laughter died down and apparent relaxed atmosphere descended while they wait for their food, the three started talking about Quidditch while Hermione just listened to their enthusiastic chat. Harry asked Minerva to tell them of her Quidditch days and some of the most notable games she had watched live whether between international or national teams. Even when the food started arriving, the wizarding sport still dominated their table. From time to time Harry and Ron would tease Hermione about her complete knowledge on Quidditch history and various written articles on it, but would not play one game with them.

For almost two hours whilst some plates were cleared and several random topics covered, which was mostly hosted by Harry, Hermione got shock when Ron brought up the topic of his work along with the news...that he is planning to tender his resignation.

"I mean, not right now, but maybe before November…" Ron described and Hermione vaguely felt the heavy silence that descended on their table that replaced merriment just a second ago.

"Um, you don't like the work mate?" Harry tentatively asked.

"I do most of the time, but not the way you do Harry. I know that you embrace every single minute being an Auror. It's not the same to me. At first, I thought it was some sort of after-war fatigue or something… And then I realised it's the feeling of always on a mission that I don't like… I… I don't want to deal with that for the rest of my life… or say next 10 years." Ron slowly started with his explanation and outwardly shifted in his seat at the intensity of the topic.

"Do you know what you want to do?" Harry beat her with the question that she was about to ask.

"Well… Last Christmas, George started talking about seriously getting back on his feet, including having a proper livelihood. He knew he cannot forever just make sidelines. He wanted to get back to the abandoned plans of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. He said he's ready to pick up what he— what he and Fred originally wanted to do in life. And then the more he talked about it— the more it occurred to me that I actually wanted to join him."

"Ron—" Hermione paused and only continued when she was sure that she has the full attention of her red-haired best friend. "Are you considering that because of George? Or it is something you really, really want to do…? You know what I am asking, right?"

Hermione knew that it was important that she pointed out practical matters. As much as she knew that Ron is expecting their support, she needed to inject critical thinking for him. But she made sure to place genuine concern with her delicate inquires to prevent the wrong impression of just being skeptical.

"Yeah… I questioned if I was just trying to be Fred's substitute… But honestly, it's not that… When the war ended, I just… I realized how I wanted to spend as much time as possible with mom, dad, and my siblings, even bloody Percy…! You know... sort of make up for the time we were on the run... And that actually lead me into thinking about what I wanted to do in my life. And working at the ministry is just not it…"

"Gin told me, last week...that you've asked her if I would be angry or disappointed if you wanted to do something else and leave the Ministry... Come on mate, why you'd think that?"

"Honestly, Harry… I do NOT want you to think or feel that I was again abandoning you and Mione."

"Ron—" Hermione started to protest but she was cut-off.

"I know, I know, Mione… I know we resolved that. But remember, after our NEWTs, when we were not so tired and lost anymore, we talked about how we are going to contribute to change the Ministry for the possibility of better? So that we don't find ourselves in another war in ten years?"

"It does not mean we completely disregard our personal lives Ron. Of course, we know that while the Ministry is the direct way, it is not the only way. It does not mean we are barred from somehow going after personal happiness." Harry cut in.

Harry's words jolted Hermione's pulse as how reality may not always as ideal as that. She wanted to hug Harry for his ever idealist self. She wanted to believe what she knew he truly believes in.

But the fact that she is sitting in front of the woman she loves so much, but commitment, responsibilities, and bigger than themselves complications have restrained her to openly love Minerva. She thoroughly felt the hard cramping of her heart that is riddled with both hope and distrust.

"I know mate. I realised that. But it's not as if I am going to Hogwarts to mould youngsters into better wizard and witches. Or open a muggle exhibition or something. You know my worries are valid…" Hermione heard Ron's anxiousness.

"You really thought about this? You see yourself doing this seriously? Harry resignedly asked.

"Yeah. George and I have started throwing in ideas about how to go about the business, our living arrangement, and other details… Everything clicked. You know how lazy I am with details, right? But suddenly, I could not stop myself planning these things. I know I can actually do that for 10 years or 50 years… It's how you are with doing Auror work Harry… Or Hermione on her way to be the Minister…"

"You have my support, Ron." Hermione kissed his cheek and gave him a tight embrace. "Full support. And I am not going after Mr. Shacklebolt's job." Hermione couldn't help but laugh at his very astonished reaction.

"Really? You're not disappointed?" Ron asked her as he threw one arm on her and hugged her closed again.

"Merlin, you are making plans and seeing more than the plate of food in front of you right now! How could I be disappointed with that?" Hermione responded with a light jab to ease the obvious emotional charge coming off Ron and it successfully made him chuckle.

"Of course mine as well mate." Harry asked as he reached across the table and lightly slapped one of Ron's forearms.

"I wanted to tell you both since last month." Ron breathed in relief. "But Mione was having her exams and I did not want her to be distracted in case it was a stupid idea."

"You could have told me first to ease your worry." Harry affirmed to convey his devotion to Ron. "And then we held it off Hermione!"

"I know, but I needed her logic to tell me if it's stupid!" Ron laughingly stated.

"Hey. I am not as scare with logic; I would have told you if it was stupid." Harry objected at the implication.

"Nah, you won't tell him Harry." Hermione interjected and the corner of her mouth quirked up. "You'd be quietly distressed about it. And then brood. And then I'd notice. Then it would bug me if I don't deal with it… So I'd then deal with you… Deal with Ron… And bugger off with my final exams!"

"I object to that!" Harry complained in a serious tone but his eyes already sparkled in laughter.

"Sorry Harry. Mione is absolutely correct! As always!" Ron's added impishly, and that had him chortled with Hermione, at Harry's expense.

Harry mockingly got offended and reached across and shoved them both harmlessly. "Bugger you two!" Then he turned to the older witch beside him whose emeralds twinkled in amusement, and then he playfully solicited, "Minerva, defend me please…!"

"I'm sorry Harry, but I'm too old to know that when its two-thirds of a trio, it is better not to contradict. But don't worry dear, if you need cheering when you brood, I'll send you purchased merchandise from Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes."

"Yahoo, our first patron! And none other than the great MG!" Ron half-shouted happily that the two people seated nearest to their table glanced at them. Then as sudden, Ron got serious and hesitated momentarily but decidedly ploughed through with what he wanted to say next. "Ummm… MG, are you going to get mad at us when Hogwarts students cause you headache with our merchandise?"

"Oh Ronald, it would be no fun for the professors if they don't hand out detentions here and there…" Minerva winked at Ron.

Hermione's heart swelled after they heard in just short dialogue how Minerva had smartly expressed her support for Ron. Harry's beaming smile told her of how proud he is of Minerva; like she has zero idea how great the woman is. And Ron's blue eyes glistened a bit at the obvious touching motion from the older witch. He cleared his throat before he said in his utmost sincere voice his appreciation. "MG, you're the best."

' _She is..._ _She is undoubtedly the best.'_ Hermione thought.

"So I won't see you everyday anymore at the Ministry?" Harry asked with half concealed nostalgia.

"It's still several months from now Harry. Our plan is that George organises things first. Besides, several salaries I could save to add to our funds won't hurt. The number says we are good to start, but we are both trying our math again and again just to be sure."

"Do you need another pair of eyes to check them?" Hermione offered.

"Thanks Mione, I was really planning to ask you but like I said, I knew you were revising for your masteries and then with the commemoration and all, it did not seem to be a good time. Plus, I even told Harry how you seemed to be even sleeping less the last two weeks when you've just topped your exams."

"I promise, this coming week is a good time. Bring them to me."

"Alright, thank you really… We are just being cautious because although we have enough funds to start, we don't have much legroom if there'd be unexpected delays. And no guys, I won't accept money from my best friends, so don't offer! And I do appreciate the intention very, very, very much."

Hermione bit her lips, as indeed she was about to make a suggestion that her unused Golden Trio stint reward be added to their business capital. Her present salary plus the small amount of trust fund her parents had given her back before the war had provided her more than enough to sustain her living and masteries expenses. So she could really contribute her reward money if Ron would only accept them.

Diagonally across her, she caught Harry's expression and understood how her olive-eyed best friend wants to offer too. Hermione knew that Harry was left with considerable wealth by her parents and definitely hundred times more capable than her to help out. When Harry looked at her in a more conflicting countenance, she shrugged her shoulders in response because somehow, she does understand Ron's refusal. But then again, Harry is Harry and just as she had guessed, he could not help himself but try.

"Ron, let me help. You know it wouldn't be—

"You already did Harry, more than enough. Part of our funds is the tri-wizard prize you gave."

"Shhhh… Don't teeell… Why do you know? I wanted it not to be told..." Harry softly lamented at the revelation.

"George said so. But he did not want me to use all of my Golden Trio prize money so he had to let me in on that they...he has funds from you. I didn't think you'd mind that they know." Ron pointed out concernedly as he waved his hand to indicate Hermione and Minerva. "I'm sorry for telling on you. But I did plan to say something to you about them."

"I already knew, Harry." Hermione gently stated.

"What?" Harry gasped.

"The twins never explicitly told me. But back when we were staying at Grimmauld that Holiday, they asked me to do some calculations and somehow they deliberately dropped enough clues for me to work out that the funds were from you. I think they wanted to indirectly tell me that you approved; I should as well... You know their strange logics!"

The three of them chuckled at what she had said and she knew that they all felt a stab as they were reminded of Fred's lost... She ventured her eyes to the witch across her, who had remained mostly silent, clearly to be less invasive when Ron opened up about his work and his plans.

The woman had a thoughtful expression on her face before emeralds shifted on her from looking at Harry and Ron's direction. Right then, Hermione knew that the woman had come to a deeper knowledge and appreciation of the boys. It included a revelation of how the public would never truly grasp the essence of their friendship regardless of the many write-ups about them. That whatever they went through together cannot simply be categorised with the phrase 'The Golden Trio'… Minerva communicated all of these with an admiring smile and Hermione returned it with her own...

"Ron, I also have something to tell you." Hermione started after she took a sip of her drink, "about work too."

"You've been promoted to Department Head?"

"What?" Hermione gasped at Ron's accurate surmise.

"That or you've transferred to MLE in a senior post."

"Why did you say that?" Hermione asked in genuine curiosity at Ron's suppositions.

"Don't you read the Daily prophet?" Ron playfully asked her and followed his rhetoric. "Oh right, you've stopped when you started being in it most of the time!"

"Don't tell me that the promotion I did not even hear before today had been written for the public to read?" Hermione fervently disputed Ron's overdone assumption.

"Okay, it wasn't." Ron relented, but went on to voice his reasoning. "But anyone who reads the daily news could make a good guess that when you topped your masteries, the Ministry would be foolish not to promote you."

"It's not a bad thing Mione." Harry interjected at the frown on her face.

"Besides, the Minister himself has been quoted often enough on how the Ministry is confident to make bold changes especially when there are dedicated and brilliant minds in the Ministry. And several times he singled-out your name and how you represent the progressive future of our society as evidenced by your work as early as now." Ron added.

"It sounded as if I have been favoured..."

"Duh, Mione! With your masteries top marks and work output, you should be rightly favoured. To do otherwise is actually unfair. Harry's right, it's not a bad thing." Ron stated with a factual tone and then asked back his early question. "So which is which Mione, Department headship or MLE transfer?"

"It's headship at the Regulation and Control… But I did not even realise—"

"Of course not! We know that you won't and we know that because we've known you since we were 11." Ron exclaimed brightly.

"Yeah, Mione. And we also know that you don't know how others are starting to know because we've known you since we were 11." Harry supplemented in equal enjoyment.

"Right, you two totally made sense! Everyone can understand exactly what you just said…!" Hermione laced her tone with light sarcasm, but underneath she felt uncertain as she could gauge that her best friends are about to tell her of something grave.

Being with these two boys for years have made her proficient in reading them when they are switching into their serious selves. And she is not at ease with them doing so right now, not when Minerva is with them.

"Okay… how about we say— people are now seeing how truly brilliant you are. And they are realising how your brilliance helped win the war. And how your brilliance would help bring a brighter future now that the war is over… I could not tell you how many times Percy told me that he had heard such thing from so and so at the department of so and so…"

"Ron, that's overly and unwarranted praise." Hermione objected and borrowed another line from Minerva's usual dismissal of commendation. "Besides, people just like to exaggerate…"

"Apart from the Golden Brain, you did not think people would eventually see the Golden heart of the Golden girl?"

"Harry, stop. You are romancing it, we all know we simply had no choice!" Hermione's disputing tone just got stronger.

Hermione watched her best friends exchange knowing looks and seen how they are as uncertain as her with their discussion. She deliberately held herself from darting her eyes to emeralds, lest it only lead her to open her damn emotions. She was attempting to come up on how to change their discourse when Ron and Harry pushed forward with their current direction.

"Harry did not have a choice… Evil marked him to die quite literally." Ron retorted quietly but clearly.

"Ron and the Weasleys, and many good wizarding families did not have a choice because their **only** world was plunged into darkness. They didn't have anywhere else to go... Minerva had no choice but to literally incarcerate herself at Hogwarts… Do you know how much curses and disrespect she got from the carrows that time?

"Harry…" Minerva softly interjected but Harry was on the roll.

"That while she is more powerful than them thrice combined, she held firing back! She had no choice but to endure, endure the abuses in order to be there for staff and students, for Hogwarts... Most of us had no choice. But you had a choice Hermione."

"I didn't." Hermione felt pain from the knowledge that Minerva suffered at death-eaters hands at Hogwarts.

"You had a window Hermione." Harry continued with his declaration with apparent intention to make her accept what they are telling her. "You could have escaped to muggle world and lay low and be with your parents and protect them and not sacrifice your relationship with them. Like what most muggle-borne did. One way or another, war would end and maybe not reach muggle world and you'd be left unscratched... Yet you did not take it..."

"I would never, most specially when I knew you were going after the Horcruxes…"

"Second before the snatchers incapacitated us, you've managed one last spell, but you used it to cast stinging jinx on me that disguised and protected me and saved my life. You had a choice to cast it onto yourself… It could have spared you from them, from Bellatrix…"

To her utmost shock, Harry reached for her scarred arm and bore his somber olive eyes on her. Her breath got caught and her heart erupted at the fact that Harry knows her concealed mud blood scar.

"Har—Harry… I just knew from the start that you were to end it all… if you get to continue and save all of us then what happens to me is inconsequential. I was just using my head…"

"Then your head must have told you many times how you had a choice. How from the very start, you had the option to seek safety; thousands of miles away… from immediate danger…"

"I would never choose that. I would never— I would never run away— leave our world."

' _And even if I did, I would come right back because I'll be then realising that I am in love with one witch… I would have marched back to Hogwarts if only to stand beside her and die protecting her…'_ Hermione's heart and mind silently declared violently. Every fiber in her knew that she would never choose self preservation if on other side is where Minerva is.

"We know that love… And we're simply telling you how people are simply catching up with such truth… along with the fact that you're really brilliant, and becoming **MORE** each day. And how it is becoming obvious how you're doing your best to fight for betterment of our world." Harry clasped her hand and reached to place a soft kiss on it.

"I am not stuck in war, Harry."

"That's not what Harry meant, and you know it." Ron's one arm draped around her and pulled her close. "You're just a Miss-know-it-all who wanted to make sure we don't have another war in a thousand years or so...!" Ron kissed her cheek and she can't help but laugh at his antics and harmlessly punched him in the chest.

"And thank Merlin for that! I really do not want to be the boy who lived and lived and lived again…!"

Harry's banter had her laughing more before her heart plunged into deeper breadth of emotional drill at Harry's succeeding words...

"And Minerva would surely love you to keep Hogwarts war-free for the rest of our lives and the next…"

_...Minerva would surely love you..._

"Indeed." Minerva supplied in.

Hermione met emerald eyes and she could not stop the silent message her brown eyes conveyed to the woman she loves above all— _'_ _It's that what it would take...? Because I'll do everything for you… Everything…'_

But sad smile from thin lips equally accepted and rejected her offer— _'Not for me... but that is how it goes darling… that is your path… part of who we are darling… part of who we are expected to be…'_

After a moment Hermione mentally bolted from Minerva's ensnaring conviction and turned to Harry and Ron, "Did you order dessert for me or remembered just yours as always?" She asked with over-exaggeration to cover the dejection that descended on her.

"Ouch. It was just one time boss!" Ron replied laughingly, " And of course we've learned our lesson not to forget your ever-boring favorite choice of vanilla ice cream..."

Harry called the server for their dessert and their table returned to mundane topics. Unspoken agreement reigned in that they are done with war and very serious work related talk. Another hour lapsed when they finally exited the **Muggle diner** with Harry complaining that Minerva had tricked them because the woman had managed to settle the entire bill without their knowing.

"I invited you Minerva." Harry grumbled.

"Come on Harry, let it go. You can get the next dinner." Minerva placated tone answered Harry.

"How do you even have muggle money on you?" Harry asked Minerva and then suspiciously added, "They're not transfigured paper napkins are they?"

Minerva's laughter rang and Hermione similar question in her head vanished at the beautiful laughing face of the older witch. Hermione dug both her hands into her pockets to prevent herself from grabbing the woman and beg her to be with her tonight and forever more…

"I promise you, they're not." Minerva touched Harry's shoulder in assurance. "But I need to leave now."

"You can't spare more? We normally take a walk around for just an hour, then I can accompany you back to Hogwarts." Harry asked and offered.

"Headmistress duties are calling Harry…" Minerva replied.

"Thank you MG. Not just for dinner… But you know…" Ron spoke in his usual ineloquence.

Ron shook Minerva's hand and half embraced the witch in his awkward way. It was contrary on how Harry familiarly kissed Minerva on the cheek and thanked the woman for spending time with them, while he promised to disturb her in her castle soon. When Harry stepped back, Hermione found herself without a clue on how to act… afraid that she'd give it away the moment she gets that physically close to the older woman. But Minerva swiftly moved into her space and gave her an embrace, but immediately dislodged her hold and created a distance between them.

"Good night. Please take good care." Minerva bid them good-bye and in a second disappeared.

As always, the three of them walked random streets and Ron would point out muggle equipment or device and Harry and her would explain to him of its nature and usage. But as they roamed the streets of London tonight, Hermione thoughts are on one woman who apparated to Hogwarts…

When Harry let out a yawn 45 minutes later, Hermione suggested that they go home. At her flat, she mechanically went on taking a bath and generally got ready for bed and picked a book to distract herself from thinking about yesterday and today.

When she went to her kitchen to get herself a glass of water, her forehead furrowed that something's not the same… She tried to remember the state of her flat before she left yesterday for Hogwarts. She knew something is different and yet she did not feel remotely in danger.

She opened her cupboards and her eyes widened at what she found there. She went to her fridge and it was equally stacked— full of food items. Hermione found herself laughing a loud when her eyes landed at the huge carton of vanilla flavored ice cream. Then she saw the note plastered to one side and reached for it.

_..._

_Dearest,_

_I promise I have never intruded your home except now. And I won't do it again. I just could not resist after I left you with the boys..._

_Hermione… I know you want more, but the truth is— we can't afford more…_

_Please, please do take care of yourself._

_..._

Hermione's earlier laughter completely died and the written words blurred as her eyes flooded with tears. She knew she has no one to blame but herself. She had let herself rip her heart furthermore because of her actions last night… because she could not help herself but follow Minerva to the lake… because she could not help herself but urged Minerva to come home with her… because she could not help herself but hopelessly love the woman who would not accept her love.

She lost her hold on her emotions and thoughts about today's reality… Of how cold her bed had been when she had woken up with Minerva gone… Of how emerald eyes had spoken rejection to her at Kingsley's office earlier while the Minister spoke of her promotion... And of how silent words of rejection had been repeated when they were at the diner as the boys spoke of their future…

_**This is part of the whys darling… Part of the tangled complications between who we are…** _

_**But that is how it goes darling… that is your path… part of who we are darling… part of who we are expected to be…'** _

For some reason, today's rejection is far more hurtful than the vitriol words spat at her by Minerva last year. Because while, _'I fucked you and it was a mistake'_ was brutal, she always knew in heart that it was not meant how it sounded… that the lash-out was a lie.

But now the truth cannot be clearer.

What they had that night of May 7— was not truly a mistake. That is one truth... Minerva had allowed herself to be taken home last night is a testament of how the woman equally wants her, then and now. Furthermore, it did not escape Hermione that Minerva had taken to tell her last night that the woman wanted to make love to her, and made love to her repeatedly… clearly demonstrated that it was not just a fuck between them. both last year and last night…

Another truth is that Minerva cares about her. The woman had even shed herself in remorse and supplicated for absolution about causing her splinch. Entirely owning the fault in wretched tremors while in her arms...

Another truth is that Minerva even cares about her damn eating habits, to invade her flat and fill-up her kitchen tonight. That the woman cared to know where she actually lives...

More truth— the woman had been invading her life quite significantly in her pursuit of higher learning. That the woman made moves for her to find masters that she needed, all without her knowing. That it did not matter that she had avoided Minerva for an entire year because the woman accepted them as self-punishment and yet created options and provided support for her future.

One hard truth— Minerva McGonagall still said NO… explicitly with written words of— _**Can't afford more**_ … Minerva can't afford to be with her… can't afford to love her back.

And one last truth— tonight, Hermione would go to bed still loving Minerva, more than ever…

* * *

**End of Chapter**

**Muggle Diner**

* * *

A/N:

\- Tell me if you just want Hermione to just get on with her life and forget Minerva? Or lets smack Minerva to wake up and love Hermione back? :)


	17. Gryffindor House Head and Ginger newts

**Year 2000 | 3rd Seventh of May**

**Midday**

* * *

Hermione does not know why, and she does not know how, but her head turned towards the primary entryway few heartbeats before Minerva McGonagall walked in.

The woman has unhurried and confident steps, and as graceful as ever, all the while commanding the attention of the ballroom without effort, just mere seconds after her appearance.

Hermione and about three hundred wizards and witches are into the second hour of their luncheon at the Ministry ballroom. They are gathered to commemorate the 'new beginning' of their society; originated and declared five days and two years ago when Harry defeated Voldemort.

While May 2 remained as an important poignant date for many families, especially with loved ones lost during the final battle, it seems that Seventh of May had become their junction between war and after war.

Earlier, when the Minister opened the luncheon, he mentioned that the Headmistress fire-called him about how she would have to miss his words of wisdom in his welcome remarks due to unforeseen matters at Hogwarts that requires her presence. The audience laughed at the Minister's quip, and the laughter grew when he swore that they were truly the Headmistress' words and how it was the venerated witch who told him to just say what she just said to engage the guest for his opening remarks.

Hence the arrival of Minerva McGonagall, at the Ministry ballroom, for the second anniversary of the 'new beginning', about 100 minutes or so after Kingsley made his _engaging_ speech…

"Oh brilliant, she's here." Harry said in unmistakable fondness, standing from his seat, intending to get to Minerva. "I'll check if she had lunch and if everything's okay at Hogwarts."

He started to walk away from Hermione and the rest of their group, but turned back and grinningly added, "And save her from going to Azkaban for hexing _intolerables_ —I really like having her around, you know, I like the perks of being close to THE Headmistress."

At this point, Hermione knew that everyone at their current table, actually most likely by everyone at the luncheon had noted the arrival of the venerated witch. The Minister and other governors are moving to receive the woman with such regard, while other wizards and witches that Minerva had passed by had given their greetings with torn fervor and apprehension.

 _Her bloody walls..._ Hermione internally sighed and withdrew her gaze from the _spectacle._

Then an actual sigh came out from the person nearest her. "Sometimes, Harry can't decide if he wants to play Minerva McGonagall's older brother, or baby brother..." Ginny's quiet words reached her as the red-haired woman transferred to Harry's vacated seat beside her.

"Your dear husband has severe affliction of Gryffindor's magnanimousness." Hermione responded, outright electing to lace it with frank admiration.

"I know." said Ginny proudly.

"And he will never be cured of it. It does not matter that he is protective of—" Hermione gestured towards Minerva McGonagall without looking back and finished, "—who absolutely needs no protection."

"Yea, the Headmistress does the protecting." replied Ginny with a chuckle but quickly added, "But he said— all the more that the woman needs protection— from herself, because she has the tendency to get lost in her duties and responsibilities to others. To the point of neglecting herself."

Hermione just gave a nod in acknowledgment and thought of what Ginny had said that actually came from Harry. Truthfully, it was something she had known too about Minerva. And something she constantly worried about, like if the woman is eating, or sleeping or simply taking a respite from working… But she kept her mouth shut, afraid she'd rant on how she'll be most happy to take care of Minerva— if only things are not as complicated.

"Harry said, she's kinda like you."

Hermione laughed, and shook her head ardently and said, "Oh no Gin, Harry is over-stating. **No one** is like the Headmistress. No one is even close."

"But you are definitely on your way up to hers. You're the top Charms Master and youngest Department Head ever; for sure, in time you'll be in the same league as the Headmistress. And you've always been—"

"Believe me Gin", Hermione interrupted, "the Headmistress is in a category only of her own." 

"But I'm not the only one saying that Hermione," Ginny retorted adamantly. "I'm sure you didn't bother reading the Daily Prophet's feature about you when you officially became your department's head last January. But let me tell you that It did mention that the last notable career burst was that of the Headmistress' when she was promoted as Deputy of the prominent MLE Department just few years after she began working at the Ministry."

Naturally, Hermione skipped all written features about her. But it did not make her less informed, courtesy of Harry and Ron's updates. And if she will be honest with herself, every time they tell her of what was written about her or the talks going around about her, it automatically led her into thoughts like, _'Does Minerva know? What does she think about it?'_ But Hermione never verbalised them and would just pick up details and link things that Harry would tell her in relation with the woman.

"Only that the Headmistress CHOSE Hogwarts shortly after the promotion." She returned her attention to Ginny who are still talking about Minerva McGonagall. "People thought that it was because of Dumbledore. Mom said that if it was and it didn't matter. I had doubts about it but then she did it again. I meant, she, the three-time war Herione- Minerva McGonagall, chose Hogwarts over the Ministry after Voldemort was defeated the last time."

"I remember the single sheet publication of the Daily Prophet right after the war that brought the news of their appointment. Mr. Shacklebolt official comment was that he only got the job because Headmistress McGonagall did not want it, who chose Hogwarts. I thought he was baseless on that. And I was even surprised that others agreed at his statement."

"Dad said, that if Hogwarts was not in such shambles that time, maybe she would've given thought into taking the interim Ministry headship… But mom disagreed; she said that Minerva McGonagall would always choose Hogwarts. Always. And she did. I guess she does love the school more than working at the Ministry."

"Apparently." Hermione replied, while mentally attempting to ignore that one long-realised fact about the woman, of her disposition when it comes to Hogwarts. That nothing comes first than the bloody school, not even oneself.

"Do you know that I used to complain to mom about her as our House Head?"

That was a surprise for Hermione. And her face must have shown it as Ginny casually waved a hand to dissipate any impression of seriousness.

"It's not like I hated her. But I used to hope that she'd be more— 'favouring' of her own house."

"Ahhh…" Hermione understood Ginny. Every Gryffindor knows that their own Head has completely no qualms deducting house points from their very own house. And that almost always the first to require utmost discipline from them even to the advantage of other houses over them— much, much to her fellow Gryffindors dismay...

"I didn't mean she'd be blatant partial to us. But even Professor Flitwick was more reassuring to his Ravenclaws and most of them are only concern with school marks and all."

"She did favor our house in her own way." Hermione told Ginny in refute. "Remember she helped bend the rules to get Harry into Gryffindor Quiddtich team? She even bought him the latest broom because she already figured out that Harry despite having money at his disposal from his parents, there wasn't exactly anyone who could go through the trouble to get him one."

"Looking at them now," Ginny motioned towards her husband and the older witch, "it kinda explains how that happened. Of how it was not totally because she favored Gryffindors. She favored Harry. Period."

Ginny might be right about that. Hermione remembered what Minerva imparted to her about her initial intention to take in Harry after Voldemort's first war... Yeah, the woman probably felt that time that it was her first chance to do something 'caring' for that 11-year-old boy.

"I'm just saying that that time, we'd never know that she cares about us with the way she ran our house with strictness. You know how frustratingly straight she is…"

At Ginny's mention of the woman as 'straight', Hermione caught her almost choke before her brain quickly triggered that the word was used in a different context before she gave away something else.

"…You know how she'd set us with higher standards than the rest. How seriously serious she was with seriousness." Ginny finished laughingly. "We are the house of the brave and our House Head was overly censoring our adventurous nature. you have to admit, it was really frustrating. Now, it was understandable, but that time completely irritating."

' _Absolutely different context'_ , Hermione thought. "I guess so." She acquiesced and also smiled at Ginny's word play.

"Then she even went totally unsupportive with our team when Harry got ban with the twins. I thought she would, you know not let our team into that excruciating state."

"I think she was glad to keep Harry off the field for any mishaps... Plus, it was somehow the beginning of the war at Hogwarts with Umbridge's arrival. It 'would' be her third and it was not hard for her to suppose the severity even at that early stage. She, along with Dumbledore knew right away. Unlike everybody who didn't really grasp it until, well, until the Ministry fell.

"Yea, I got that. I know it was stupid of me…" Ginny sheepishly said. "Every time I complain before about the Professor, mom swore that the Professor McGonagall that we know is not at all that."

 _Yep_. Hermione thought. _You have no idea._

"And then I finally saw what mom meant. It was during the school year you and the boys went on the run."

"Because she stayed at Hogwarts instead of going underground like others?" Hermione asked.

"Yea… I saw how she was doing everything she could under the circumstances to protect students and staff from the death eaters at school." 

While it was true that being out on the run was very dangerous, Hermione had long gathered how staying at Hogwarts that time was equally life threatening. Especially to students and staff who did not pledge their loyalty to Voldemort. And how much more perilous it was for Minerva McGonagall, who everyone knew as Dumbledore's most loyal Deputy/friend…

At onset, Hermione correctly predicted how the woman would never leave Hogwarts even at her own peril. Harry told her what happened the night DA was found out by Umbridge and how Dumbledore manipulated the details and because of that was being arrested… and of how Minerva was already palming her wand to fight with Dumbledore. But Dumbledore vitally communicated, implored, and ordered Minerva of how it was a must that she stays at the school for the students and staff— no matter what.

"She was still all strict and even more if that was possible at the start of that school year. But about five or six weeks in, wherein physical punishment on students by Carrows has become regular; I woke one night with Parvati's sobbing as Professor McGonagall healed her hands tenderly. When Parvati fell asleep, I thought the Professor would leave and go back to her sleep, but she just transformed into her animagus and settled on one corner to watch over us. Eventually I also fell asleep, but I didn't think she left at all.

Hermione could not help but turn to look at the amazing woman Ginny was talking about. Harry is currently bending at his waist as he speaks to the witch very closely. Then emerald eyes turned to her as if the older witch had known that she was looking at her. Hermione saw a soft small smile before the woman shifted back to Harry, and her best friend smilingly settled into a chair that the woman conjured beside her.

Hermione withdrew her look when Ginny's voice registered back into her consciousness, "…I told Neville about it the following morning and he whispered to me that the professor had been safeguarding back and forth between the boys and the girls' sleeping quarters at nighttime since our first night. And would even visits Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws dormitories to heal those who have been physically punished when Madame Poppy was purposely sent away by the Carrows…"

"Harry told me how she took your punishment when you were caught stealing the sword."

It was one of those stories that Harry narrated a couple of months ago when she and Ron accompanied him to fetch the commissioned painting of Severus Snape for his house. Hermione pretended not to be overly concern but it truly had her inside twisted and revolted for the pain that Minerva suffered. And then the conflicting reconciliation that Snape was on their side.

"Yea… She was all Gryffindor Hermione."

Ginny took a swift look once again at the general direction where Minerva and Harry are seated, and paused, seemingly replaying a memory in her mind then turned back to Hermione.

"I don't think I will forget how the Professor's voice sounded that time as she tried to get hold of the situation. It was strong, it was mocking, it was authoritative and simply brave. I was so afraid Hermione, but somehow the Professor's courage was rubbing on me, if that makes sense."

"She's the Head of Gryffindor, Gin."

"It was more that... She was in a room with death-eaters who were basically controlling Hogwarts, but that did not matter at all. She simply reduced Snape and the Carrows on how they were _**just**_ her students, and how she is the only _**true**_ professor in the room… And so she defyingly told Snape that by Hogwarts thousands of years of existence, the House Head gets to hand out punishment for its students… And imperiously added that if he has a problem with the mere detention, the penalty she was giving us, then she dares Snape to punish her if he deemed it, because she will not follow the barbaric prescribed punishment."

"How was she—?" Hermione could not really finish her sentence as she realised that Harry did not elaborate on what kind of price Minerva had paid for her courage during that incident.

Ginny's voice had lost most of its volume as she stated sadly, "Professor Snape gave her a hit with his wand on her cheek, non-magic physical hit, right there and then."

Hermione flinched.

"I cried Hermione, the injustice and at the total disrespect she undeservingly got. Of course, we didn't know then that it was Professor Snape's best protection for her..."

Despite understanding the entire miserable conflicting situation, Hermione's insides once more revolted in pain for the woman.

"The Carrows were screaming at her face that she should be given to Voldemort as slave. They just stopped when Professor Snape menacingly said that she is his slave at the moment because every paper work was given to her unless the Carrows are volunteering to do them. And that he intends to give more punishment later on… And privately… I was so afraid she would... you know, get raped… as Snape heavily implied."

Hermione could just imagine the anger and the anxiety that Minerva felt at her circumstances during those long sufferable months. The limited or almost cut-off communication she had with the rest of the Order was probably making it complicated against the fact that Dumbledore left her to be incarcerated at Hogwarts for the staff and students… whom she cannot plainly defend and protect without the death eaters sending her to Azkaban.

"Our roles in the war…" Hermione let out a breath she didn't know she held.

"Yea… And Harry said, you are working on how we will never have another one in a thousand years."

"I wish Gin… But your husband is thoroughly over-estimating my capabilities."

Hermione thinks that everybody is over-estimating her so-called brilliant mind. But sometime last July when she was officially endorsed as the Department Deputy, she had learned how to deal with the presumption.

Following the days, weeks, and months after Minerva rejected her at the Manor, she simply submerged into gathering the tattered pieces of her heart and attached them somehow to function. For an entire year, she was busy playing avoidance game with Minerva. She was busy pushing for her parents' recovery and reunion. She was busy planning and actually achieving her first level masteries for Charms and Transfiguration. She was _**busy being so busy**_ in order not to fall into desolation that she never fully paid attention to what the write-ups about her really comprise. But at one dinner last year, her two best friends truly opened her eyes on how the 'public' had elected to see her following the war…

After the court transcripts and other war narratives were publicized, plus her uncommonly taken NEWTs accomplishment and then two field masteries endeavor; there was no way that people would miss the fact that she was more than Harry Potter's best friend… that it was impossible not to acknowledge her brilliance, let alone dismiss it… When she made the top ranks in her masteries, people seemed to fortify their belief (publicly stamped by Kingsley) that she is a big part of their society's future.

At its full realisation, she initially recoiled at the implications until she worked in her head how the public's expectation cannot be higher than those she had set within herself. That is— be at Minerva's caliber. Or even just close the gap between them. And then maybe, just maybe, time will come when there will be an opportunity for them to **'afford each other'**...

"Well, Harry knows you more that anyone I supposed, and I would like to put faith in my husband's faith in you so that baby James would have a better society to live in."

 _Yeah, me too… For Minerva…_ Hermione told herself mentally.

"Is Molly taking care of him at the Burrow?" she asked Ginny in an effort to shake herself from the direction of her thoughts and change their topic.

"Yes. Mom insisted to take care of him instead of us getting someone to look after him this afternoon. She was okay to not be here. She said anyway we would all see her later at dinner. You're still coming right?"

"Yeah."

She thought about asking if Minerva would be coming as well but withheld her question because she could easily infer that the woman would probably run back to Hogwarts. The fact that the older witch had not arrived until more than an hour and half from the stated time of the luncheon only meant that something of import had kept her at the castle. She could not help but hope though.

During the last 12 months, where Hermione made the effort to occasionally attend dinners at the Burrow, Minerva on two events appeared; Harry's birthday and Baby James' sort of debut. And now that she thought of it, Minerva seemed unable to say no when obviously the dinner occasion was for Harry. That made Hermione delighted for Harry and jealous of him at the same time— irrationally jealous.

Speaking of her best friend who had returned to their table, he asked them "Do you want something Hon, I'm getting tea for Minerva? How about you Mione?"

Ginny said no and she also shook her head. Jealous all the more that Harry can do mundane task for Minerva without any complications…

When Harry left, Alicia joined her and Ginny. Alicia who was surprisingly very interested with kids had started asking about baby James. While listening to their conversation, Hermione was also watching Harry returned to Minerva with the tea.

When Harry left Minerva once more for something else, she took advantage of the interval. Very, very discreetly, Hermione summoned a small tin can of ginger newts from her office downstairs and had it soundlessly materialised just beside Minerva's teapot.

Hermione had to smile at how veteran Minerva is at subtleness. The woman didn't even pause as she was speaking to Kingsley and to another wizard when it suddenly appeared before her.

Hermione watched her reached for the tin can and took a biscuit with naturally movements. Anyone watching will be misled that the woman herself was the one who conjured it. Except Hermione knew that Minerva knew that she was the one who sent the can, just by the smallest shift of the older woman's body and a hint of a smile.

Oh, plus the fact that she had been sending the same to Minerva at Hogwarts from time to time…

It started one Sunday almost a year ago…

In the early dawn of that Sunday morning with less than three hours of unruly sleep, she rose from her bed and dragged herself to her kitchen to stare at the goods that Minerva fully stacked for her the night before. As she re-read and re-read Minerva's caring words and equal note of rejection.

Carefully, she considered Minerva's words— written, spoken and unspoken to her and for her and her alone… Then she examined Minerva's actions during the very brief times that they were together, when they were away from the rest of their society. She thought and thought of who the woman is whenever the woman shed her role. Of who the woman is without the public McGonagall persona, but just Minerva…

Some moments, Hermione would employ cynicism and reminded herself that she does not really know the woman. That maybe no one really knows who the woman is behind Minerva McGonagall. Maybe Dumbledore did, but the wizard is dead. And didn't Minerva herself admit to her that the last closest people in her life were taken away from her during the last war?

_Does anyone alive even know that Minerva is gay? Or that she is defying aging? Or that she has a grand but empty Manor? Was she ever in relationship with another witch?_

Hermione's mind looped back to Dumbledore and how he was gay and nobody knows. Or rather how he didn't seem to have lived a free life despite his flamboyancy, possibly because of the entire Grindelwald love-tragic affair. But maybe she just does not know … like how she doesn't really know Minerva…

_Like people do not know that you are gay Hermione._

That particular thought seemed to re-centered Hermione. For fuck's sake, she hasn't even work out on how to tell Ron, her other best friend, of that fundamental detail about herself…

She knows Ron and knows his tendency to be shortsighted about unconventional things. Not because he is a bad person but because he grew up with less exposure and probably had been too sheltered on usual order of notions.

It was evident on how she had to 'educate' him about other magical creatures belonging to different class than wizards and witches, but it does not mean a lower or a higher class. It took her quite an effort to get Ron to consider the concept.

In the same thread, she knew she is not ready for a probable fight with Ron, about her being gay… She is not prepared for the kind of hurt most likely to be thrown her way as they battle for acceptance and understanding.

Then of course her parents— who have no clue about her sexuality. She wanted to believe that her parents would be as open minded as they have been when they found out that she was a witch when she was eleven years old. Naturally, her parents were thrown off-guard of such revelation. But that same afternoon, pride erupted from them for having a special daughter (obviously with tremendous influence by the emerald witch who brought her Hogwarts letter). They even viewed her 'muggle' nature as added uniqueness compared to those who were born in a wizard family. But this is not withstanding of their current relationship, given how precarious it is from her memory-wiping act. There is no way she would dare tell them in the very near future that their daughter is gay…

So… She arrived at a demanding question slash truth about herself, and of her loving Minerva. That is- **How and why the hell does she expect to be with Minerva right now with all these complicated reality in her own life?**

Suddenly she remembered to be realistic… to use her logic... to use her brilliant mind. She ordered herself to properly ascertain what she can do, what she cannot do, what she thinks Minerva can do, and what she thinks Minerva cannot do?

Consequently, her golden brain understood Minerva's _**'we can't afford more'**_.

**Yet.**

Three-letter word she added to that rejection and it made a new whole world difference for Hermione.

We can't afford more— yet, but in time we can… In time she can love Minerva freely. In time Minerva would accept her love. In time Minerva would love her back… She knew this already, but it seems that it is only now that she fully understands it.

As the sun fully rose that Sunday morning, Hermione decided to just— go with the flow (for lack of better description). She apparated to Hogsmeade and got herself ginger newts. Then as soon as muggle stores opened, she got herself an oven and some additional supplies. For the entire afternoon, she experimented on how to make the exact ginger newts that she got. With concentration as if she was brewing complicated potions, her fifth batch of the biscuits were as good (or even better as she was biased) than the ones Minerva buys at Hogsmeade.

Just after dinnertime, she sent a can to Minerva to Hogwarts. She placed it inside a charmed bag that will open to no one else but Minerva. She included a note where for a moment she deliberated on how to address, and then bravely wrote it…

_. . ._

_Darling,_

_Thank you for making sure that I will not starve, and thank you for remembering to include vanilla ice cream because life would not be complete without it!_

_And speaking (or writing) of_ _**life** _ _, I think I would have to subscribe back to the Daily Prophet for the next few days just to be updated in case I had poisoned you with these ginger newts that I made…_

. . .

Two excruciating Sundays went by when the empty tin can arrived back at her flat, inside was a note.

_. . ._

_Darling,_

_Nope, you didn't murder me. But I almost murder Pomona when she took a piece. Although it was my fault, because I used to tell them to help themselves with the biscuits whenever they are at my office. But I failed to hide the ones you made…_

_But really, it was your fault because they were the best ginger newts…_

. . .

And that was how the ginger newts giving started…

Hermione internally smiled when Minerva simply waved her hand over the tin can and it disappeared. Easily she could guess that the older witch vanished it to a safe-keep just before Harry settled back beside her.

For another quarter of an hour, she listened to Alicia and Ginny then eventually excused herself to go to Mr. Gregory Bennette, the former Department Head at the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, her former boss to talk to him. Not too keen to be held by anyone else, she subtly walked at the ballroom far sides. But before she could reach him, an elf whose clothing is with Hogwarts crest had intersected her. Before she could say something, he handed her a small cup. When Hermione looked at the cup, her Cheshire grin appeared.

She was given a cup of vanilla ice cream.

* * *

End of Chapter | Year 2000

Gryffindor House Head and Ginger newts


	18. Favors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I'm a bit bad in creating names.
> 
> Additional created characters to appear in this chapter:  
> 1| Gaston - a shout-out to Beauty and the Beast.  
> 2| Mr. Ewan Thompson, Head of Department of Records (also made-up department)  
> 3| Mr. Jinn Leroy, Head of MLE - a shout out to NCIS Leroy and StarWars Qui-Gon Jinn
> 
> Re-appearing created characters:  
> 1| Gregory Bennette - Hermione's former boss  
> 2| Gil Williams - Kingsley chief of staff

**Year 2000 | 3rd Seventh of May**

**Still at the Luncheon**

* * *

"Thank you." Hermione managed to express just before the elf in front of her disappeared.

With vastly improved mood, Hermione straightened to resume with her course to talk to her former boss, Mr. Gregory Bennette. She found him watching and seemingly waiting for her arrival.

"Hermione, how are you?" Gregory greeted her with cheerfulness that she did not see from him the 18 months she served under him. "Short period of time and I can see that you already have elf admirer bringing you a treat!" He good-naturedly stated as he motioned at the cup in Hermione's hand. "They do say that you are a sweetheart to them."

Hermione genuinely smiled before she answered, "No sir, he was just handing it from someone." Then she felt a jest would be okay so she added, "And I really like you Sir, but I will not share this. And too bad you can't threaten to fire me for not sharing." For good measure, she quickly reinforced the freezing charm and afterwards vanished the cup to her office downstairs.

Gregory Bennette deep booming laugher erupted. Hermione was so astonished at his reaction and with her current happy disposition from Minerva's ice cream surprise gesture, she got swept by her former boss' gaiety that she freely chuckled as well.

"You remind me of Minerva McGonagall— I mean, The Headmistress… She can drop some cracking remarks and have the receiver in bewilderment of whether to laugh or to draw one's wand for a duel."

Hermione eyes sparkled at the compliment and wryly retorted, "Thank Merlin it had you laughing Sir, because had you opted for a duel, I do not really want to send your bum on the ground and be sent to Azkaban."

Another round of laughter came out from her boss and once more Hermione could not help but laughed along with him.

"Hermione, I think you better drop 'sir' and just call me Gregory." Her boss warmly told her and she nodded and smiled at him as they both gathered themselves from their laughing.

From her peripheral vision, Hermione caught Mr. Jinn Leroy—the current MLE Head before she heard his banter.

"How did you get lucky Gregory that Ms. Granger opted to join your department, gave the retirement door that you've been bemoaning about— since the time I was still at Hogwarts?"

The wizard clasped her boss' forearm in a friendly gesture. Hermione tried to hide her surprise that her former boss and the MLE Head are this familiar with each other.

Gregory dramatically teased back. "Since you were at Hogwarts Jinn? More like when you were a baby!" He heartily laughed then continued, "But really, it's fate I should say." Then naughtily added, "plus her double mastery top ranks should be evidence enough of why. Only the smartest people opt to work at the Regulation and Control of MC."

Blue eyes of Jinn Leroy turned to her, studied her quite intimidatingly, before he asked, "Is that so Ms. Granger?"

Hermione heard the jest and the test.

"I reckon that silence is the best answer Sir… I hate to offend feelings and egos of either my recent former boss or my probable future boss. Surely I would need **favors** from both."

Gregory Bennette and Jinn Leroy roared with laughter and Hermione was completely taken aback at their full merriment that she did a double take.

"Bloody brilliant witch…! Truly brilliant just as they say! I think I have to start attracting you to join MLE now!

"Oy Jinn, let her wield her impeccable brilliance at the Regulation before you steal her away."

"What do say Ms. Granger?"

Another test, but more of a jest… Hermione could now see the amusement in Jinn Leroy's eyes, so she quickly gave a return.

"I say this is like having conversation with my best friends Harry Potter and Ron Weasley."

"How so?"

"Because?"

The wizards questioned at the same time in almost comical manner. Hermione suspended her laughter as she volleyed another quip, "For suddenly, I find myself in the middle of two wizards who are both handsome but too incorrigible."

Once more, the two wizards burst in laughter. And she also chuckled at their laughter, and at the notion of two wizards who are known as severe Ministry Officers are now laughing out loud... with her.

Truthfully, Hermione could not believe that her former boss is not the quiet old wizard she had tagged him. She barely exchanged words with him during the time she worked with him. Even when he was essentially transferring his duties as Department head, Gregory Bennette didn't really strike conversation with her. And they did not swap any joke. The man elected formality when dealing with fellow workers, although obviously, retirement has this amazing effect on people.

Equally shocking for Hermione is to find herself trading jabs with the tough MLE boss. She had heard quite a few stories from Harry on how demanding and gravelly serious Jinn Leroy is at work. She knew that the wizard was fatally wounded at the start of the last war and was lucky to live, unlike his boss Amelia Bones. Harry said that Leroy didn't bother with his label as the 'The Golden Boy who Lived' and treated him as one of the _green Aurors_ who needed strict training like the rest, which Harry actually preferred. Also, Harry did mention that he always like the fact that his boss would shift into his casual self and engage them in good rapport outside work hours.

And so, for the next quarter of an hour, Hermione found herself in an exclusive repartee with two seasoned wizards until they had to talk to other people and needed to break their party. But not before Jinn Leroy insisted that Gregory Bennette owes him **favors** in exchange for 'letting' him have Hermione Granger at the Regulation and Control. They walked away still throwing banters.

For the next half hour, Hermione engaged in discussion with couple of wizards and witches here and there with her general positive disposition. But as before, she would mark Minerva's whereabouts from time to time, noting how people would either braved it and talked to the woman or just gave their apprehensive abridged greetings.

At one point when she checked to where Minerva was seated with Kingsley and Harry, she was motioned by Kingsley to come over… As soon as she was near enough, Harry immediately vacated his seat and made her take it, and so she found herself seated beside Minerva.

Before Hermione could give a proper greeting, Kingsley beat her with a question, "What were Gregory and Jinn pestering you about awhile ago?"

"Oh. They were just—" Hermione bit her lip and thought of what to actually say to the Minister and because she was really, really in a good mood, she said, "—they just wanted me to tell them who is the most charming wizard?"

"They asked you what?" asked Kingsley disbelievingly.

"Who is the most charming wizard?" repeated Hermione, and she could already see how Harry is battling to keep his laughter in.

When she looked at the face of the witch beside her, she found a brow in perfect arc but Hermione schooled her face gravelly when she returned to look at the Minister across them.

"And?" asked Kingsley still disbelievingly.

"I said, it is no other but Kingsley Shacklebolt!" replied Hermione with utmost seriousness.

Unmistakably Hermione heard a soft snort from the woman beside her but she did not let go of her serious expression as she watched Kingsley blinked in confusion.

And then as if they had a script, Harry followed with his over-dramatic objection, "Hermione! Who is the most charming wizard?"

Of course without missing a beat she said, "Surely no other but Harry Potter!"

Kingsley good-naturedly rebuked her and afterwards let out a laugh as Harry was already openly chuckling.

"So she is brilliant AND funny eh?" said Kingsley and seemed to address the non-question to Minerva.

Hermione shook her head in earnest and risked to follow Kingsley's direction and looked at Minerva's face. She curved her lips into a smile when she found Minerva's own lips quirked up.

"Actually sir, I just stole that from Ron. That's why Harry easily caught up with it. Ron would ask Harry a **favor** and had him ask aloud 'Who is the most gorgeous witch' within hearing distance of some girl that Ron would like to charm."

"And clearly he needs another scheme to actually charm one" rejoined by Harry that had them chuckling.

"Where is he by the way? I thought I saw him earlier" asked Kingsley.

"He is back at their shop. He had to switch with George in tending so both of them could actually attend today" explained Harry. "But I think he'll close early and try to come back."

Before anyone could continue their chat, Gil Williams—Kingsley's chief of staff needed to take the Minister for some matters and both wizards excused themselves. And just seconds after Gil and Kingsley took steps away from them; Harry stood up and also excused himself about getting them a drink. Hence leaving her with Minerva alone.

Unsurprisingly, the woman is in her public persona but Hermione seemed to be now proficient in scanning the severity— or absence of Minerva's walls. Sure, some walls are present at the moment, but she could also detect smallest hint of smile in the older woman's face, so Hermione decided to draw it out.

"Would you like to ask who is the fairest witch of all?"

Hermione knew that she is flirting and she could not help herself. She absolutely missed Minerva. She had last seen the woman some months ago…

"No..."

Minerva's short, quiet response in her thick brogue was apparent. It told Hermione that the witch is somewhat withholding her laughter. It certainly had Hermione grinned with abandon and teased Minerva further.

"Come on ask me… I promise it is **my only** answer… For I only have **ONE** name…"

Hermione watched the smile on Minerva's face slowly but surely appeared. Vaguely she knew that her own smile had magnified in its degree…

Then a disturbing snap accompanied with a blinding flash of light broke the moment…

Hermione turned her head at the source and she found a photographer from The Daily Prophet, who apparently just taken their photo. Before she could even gather her thoughts on how to express her displease, the camera vanished into thin air with one swift wave by Minerva who just confiscated the offensive camera.

"Come on now Headmistress, that camera is Daily Prophet's property."

"Seven years at Hogwarts and we failed to have you learned that one must not take something without asking for permission? I don't remember Severus Snape lacking in refinement for him not to make his house emulate it."

"With due respect Madame, if I would have to ask permission in my profession, I would be a very incompetent photographer because I cannot really capture the pure action. We need the pure moment and I would miss it if I need to be courteous before taking it.

"And what an exciting moment of action of two witches sitting." Hermione interjected with enough acid to thaw hard grade metals.

"True Ms. Ganger that it wasn't much in action. But capturing moments is also about the people in it. And I already have a perfect caption for your photo: _**The Past, Present and Future of Our Society**_."

The wizard air quoted the caption and obviously very pleased with himself by the look on his face. Plainly, there is a delay in his brain about recognising the mistake he just committed.

On the other hand, Hermione had to give it to this photographer-Slytherin-wizard. He knows his shit. Including its bullshit…

"Headmistress, Hermione, hello…" Audrey Weasley arrived hurriedly at their table with evident tensed countenance and irritation directed at the annoying photographer, a colleague at The Daily Prophet…

"Gaston, you're being a git!" Audrey let out her exasperated scolding to the Slytherin, and then turned to Minerva and Hermione, "I'm sorry for whatever he did."

"Hey, I was just taking the photograph of our revered Hogwarts Headmistress Minerva McGonagall with no other than Ms. Granger - the youngest Ministry Department Head. And like what I was telling them, I already have the most perfect caption and that is—"

"No Gaston. I turn for a second and you sneak away. I told you that we have strict instruction to keep our photo taking at a minimum today. I don't want to lose my job because of your inability to follow instructions. Go, our boss needs you to take their photo over there."

"But…" Gaston was visibly going to argue about his camera being taken by the Headmistress. Hermione watched the older witch merely raised one brow; the photographer wizard rapidly changed his mind and actually muttered, "Didn't mean to be intrusive Madame." And then scampered away.

"I really apologise Headmistress," Audrey stated when Gaston was gone. "He is a pain in the bum but a brilliant photographer so we have to suffer bringing him around."

"He managed one, I'll appreciate it if you'd shelve it Mrs. Weasley." Minerva said after she conjured back the confiscated camera and floated it to Audrey.

"Yes Ma'am" replied Audrey and took hold of the offensively used item. "I am sorry too Hermione, our boss even reminded us about our agreement with you. We didn't tell Gaston, well, exactly because he'll be more insistent to take your photo tonight."

"Don't worry Audrey, we're still even in **favors**."

"Okay, thanks… I will see you at the Burrow later, right?"

Hermione nodded and watched Audrey walked away after bidding her and the Headmistress goodbye. When she turned to look at the Headmistress, she found the woman with raised walls, undoubtedly from what just happened... She internally sighed at now finding herself in a ruffled situation. She was deciding what to say or how to expel the tightness, and at the same time bloody wishing for Harry to return to them when Minerva opened a discussion.

"May I ask something?

"Of course..." Hermione tentatively responded and she dared to study the woman's face again. Although Minerva was still wearing her public persona, Hermione was glad that the stiffness caused by the Gaston incident is already gone. She also noted that the woman didn't sound sharp. Minerva even sounded curious.

"Even in favors…."

"That was not a question." Hermione quipped but her golden brain already comprehended what Minerva would like to know… or perhaps Minerva already knew but just like to get confirmation from her.

Minerva's brows knitted in reproach but there was tugging at the corner of her thin lips. Hermione let out her own smile then she lightly asked, "And the Headmistress' actual non-questions would be?"

This time Minerva let out a small smirk at Hermione's quip, before speaking what Hermione already knew— more or less…

"You gave The Daily Prophet the heads-up last January about your promotion? In return that they leave you alone tonight? And is that the same premise on how you're managing to keep your recent Charms level 2 mastery completion out of public?"

"Yes, not exactly, and no." replied Hermione without hesitation but she deliberately excluded details and she knew that Minerva would catch it.

Minerva did. And then the woman merely raised one brow to compel Hermione to say more…

"Just after New Year when the Minister told me that my boss pushed for his official retirement, therefore my official promotion as Department Head to be finalised. I decided to talk to Audrey to ask her boss if they want to exchange favors. When they agreed, I told them of my upcoming official promotion, giving them advantage of getting the information instead of catching up to report afterwards. I know that for them it was already a tremendous difference. Although I was adamant that they do not release ahead but the same day. And since it has no bearing to me, I went for it— in exchange of a future **favor** … "

"Future **favor**."

"I didn't know yet what to ask that time." Hermione shrugged her shoulders. Then when the luncheon was being planned, I thought I could use the favor so they will limit reviving the 'Golden Brain' label in relation with today's commemoration."

"And your mastery?"

"I had a talk with the Records Department."

"You mean you pulled your Department Head rank with them…"

"I just talked to Mr. Thompson, it turned out he knows about extending courtesy to a fellow Department Head."

Again, Minerva raised her brow. And again, Hermione was compelled to come forth.

"I miscalculated. Last week I managed to finish the last of the mastery level-2 requirements. I'm sure Filius mentioned such to you as soon as I was done with it."

Hermione said the last part with a matter of fact tone and she watched the Minerva's corner lip twitched in amusement.

"But really, I thought it would take me until end of June or mid-July to complete Charms despite not taking Transfiguration because of the significantly increased workload I have. So—"

"After you've completed the requirements and even before the official confirmation was available, you talked to Mr. Ewan Thompson as **favor** from fellow Department Head…"

Again, Hermione shrugged. "I asked Ewan to withhold releasing the information so it will not get attention from this week's commemoration… in respect to those who have sacrificed their lives during the war. He understood and even agreed to keep it for about a month or so in his office… All the better, the belated broadcast would help lose some of its sensationalism."

When Minerva didn't say anything back and just stared at her, Hermione tried to read the apparent contemplation going on inside the older woman's head. For a moment she worried if there was something questionable with her actions, but she knew she didn't do anything wrong. Of course she made a thorough thinking before doing any of them. But really, she has one concern— Minerva's opinion.

"You are learning the inner workings of Ministry post and taking hold the advantages of being a Public figure at a breakneck speed and it should not really surprise me. And yet, I am…" then she heard Minerva added in almost a murmur, "Brilliant indeed."

At Minerva's words, Hermione face's adorned her Cheshire grin. "Well, people keep telling me that I have a chance to be a 'tenth' version of this venerated woman that we all refer as THE Headmistress… But I know I have to work very, very hard in order to be so."

"No… You'll be—" Emerald-eyed witch paused, unknowingly withdrawn one of her walls, and another wall, and then in heavier brogue quietly stated, "You will be so much more… Much more."

Hermione's heart surged. Try as she did, she lost her grip on her control and gave her truest response, "I just **want** to **afford more** …"

Even knowing that they are in the middle of a Ministry luncheon, at the Ministry official ballroom, where about three hundred wizards and witches are in attendance, Hermione did not falter. She bravely held emerald eyes as she whispered, "I **need** to **afford more** … "

Hope in Hermione's soul fired up as Minerva's one wall fell… then another… then another…

Then suddenly, to Hermione's utmost horror, every withdrawn bloody wall went back up…

And the bloody public persona of The Headmistress Minerva McGonagall re-surfaced with clarity…

* * *

**End of Chapter | Year 2000**

**Favors**

* * *

* * *

_Minerva's bloody bloody walls!_

_Why?_


	19. Quidditch Player

_Hope in Hermione's soul fired up as Minerva's one wall fell… then another… then another…_

_Then suddenly, to Hermione's utmost horror, every withdrawn bloody wall went back up…_

_And the bloody public persona of The Headmistress Minerva McGonagall re-surfaced with clarity…_

* * *

**Year 2000 | 3rd Seventh of May**

**Still at the Luncheon**

* * *

'NO… NO… NO!'

Mentally, Hermione started to scream at the full arrival of Minerva's complete bloody walls! She could hear the thundering sound of her pulse at the misstep she just made… for letting out her unguarded, unadulterated, and deepest aspiration…

_I just want to afford more…_

_I need to afford more…_

Her mind replayed the second ago voiced mad longing of her heart... Followed by a heavy denunciation on how utterly imbecilic to have done so…

Sometimes, when she's with Minerva, she can't stop herself saying moronic words and making moronic actions. And as always, she would become powerless at the mere thought of Minerva alienating her that she would be willing to do anything to tie herself to the woman somehow, anyhow. Like right now.

Hermione was about to take the risk and beg Minerva to come back in front of her… She was about to beg pardon for her honesty when Minerva's eyes shot her a millisecond meaningful look and it darted beyond her left shoulder.

It took a second for Hermione to work out in her head that someone joined her and Minerva… and that someone had greeted The Headmistress.

_**The Headmistress.** _

The phrase repeated inside Hermione's head and her mind leapt as to why the woman raised back all her bloody walls…

While the woman had inadvertently permitted herself to bring down her walls, the woman was swiftly alerted of the fact that they are in a bloody Ministry luncheon… that they are not free to be 'the Minerva' and 'the Hermione' that they both set free when they are exclusively together… not right now.

The understanding brought Hermione tremendous relief that her honest blunder did not really drive Minerva away. However, a throbbing in her heart for their bloody circumstances followed it. She is beginning to believe that their ostentation and general public roles will bloody kill her!

Then a touch on her shoulder distracted her from her current rumination. Somehow, it registered in her brain that that someone who had joined them just greeted her as well.

With much reluctance, Hermione's brown eyes left Minerva's face and turned her head towards the 'intruder'. She found a smiling blonde young woman… the one who had touched her shoulder in greeting, whose touch in Hermione's opinion— had lingered longer than necessary… Hermione thought of hexing the blonde woman…

This is the culprit who had disturbed her precious moment with Minerva… the imbecile who made Minerva bring forth her full Minerva McGonagall public persona— 'the Headmistress'… Not to mention 'the Hermione Granger' she has started to put on for the public, as she becomes more and more embedded as a well-known Ministry Officer.

"I heard my favourite team is on a winning steak these days because of you."

Hermione heard Minerva praised the person beside her. The woman must be a **Quidditch player** who plays at Montrose Magpies— Minerva's favourite professional quidditch team.

"They are Headmistress. But it's not just because of me. I am just happy to be fielded and help the team. And I am happy that it's the Quidditch team you favour Ma'am."

"The Lanchashire team management must now be flooded with compunctions for not fielding you back then, more so when they traded you. It was foolish of them to mislay a talented player such as you Ms. Bell."

"Thank you Professor—Ma'am—Headmistress…"

Hermione heard Katie Bell stumbled at the Headmistress' praise… Wait… What…? Who…? Hermione backtrack her thought— Katie Bell?

She does sound like Katie. But Katie has brown long hair. This woman has blonde creased pixie hairdo. And Hermione just saw Katie the day before yesterday.

Hermione had asked Ron and Harry to have dinner last Friday, sort of a celebration for her Second level Charms Mastery completion. But then the three of them ended having a joint dinner with George, Angelina, Jordan, Neville and Katie. The group dinner date was resulted by a not so serious ramble in details and certain kind of friendly pressure to just go altogether.

But Katie that time did not look the way she does right now. But yes, truly it is Katie Bell who joined her and Minerva. Hermione realised that she has yet to respond to Katie's earlier greeting.

"Katie! Hello…" Her delayed reaction is apparent, including her surprise at Katie's blonde and very short hairstyle. "Wow, the new look is amazing on you!"

"Hello again Hermione." Katie glowingly responded, "For a second there, I thought you're actually ignoring me. I thought it was because—"

"I apologize for not immediately acknowledging you. I was miles away pondering about what the Headmistress was just— discussing with me."

Hermione knew that Katie was referring to that dinner she was thinking just a second ago. For some reason, she didn't want Minerva to know that she had dinner with Katie, never mind that it was not planned and it was a group dinner. And she was also too aware of the obfuscation she just made about her halted discussion with Minerva. She knew she made it sound something official, and Katie's response confirmed that it was how it came out.

"Oh no, I interrupted your meeting. I am sorry. Please excuse me. I just want—"

"It's alright Ms. Bell... Ms. Granger and I ought to have _such discussion_ some other time…" Minerva interjected Katie and her response's double meaning did not escape Hermione. "And Ms. Granger is correct, your different look suits you very finely."

Hermione watched Katie blushed at Minerva's comment but not before an aloof look shot at her direction. Involuntarily, Hermione's brows knitted at Katie's reaction, and then a second later, she felt something akin to jealousy. Jealous that Minerva would find someone physically fine.

"Thank— thank you Headmistress." Katie again stuttered but eventually smiled brightly with another shy look at Hermione. And Hermione's jealousy settled firmly in her guts.

"This is a result of George's product invention. He was testing a new candy that would change your hair color for mere 3 and 1/2 seconds. He, with Ron and Angie persuaded me to take trial candies and then later on convinced me to actually go for a new hair style after the fourth candy I ate had me looking— well, looking like this."

"So I have to warn Hogwarts Professors of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes' latest mischief product?" Minerva wryly replied.

Katie unsurely explained, "George said— he said that the candy would not be out until Hollow's eve. And they are calling them, 'Be Tonks'. I think it is meant to pay homage to Mrs. Lupin."

Clearly, Katie did not catch the fact that Minerva was just exercising her wicked humor with her sardonic response. But she knew Minerva already knew about the 'Be Tonks' candies. She wanted to bridge Katie's short understanding but after she looked at Minerva and detected her disguised amusement, her jealousy just got more pronounced. She let Katie endure in twist on how to get out of such topic.

About three months ago, Hermione knew that Ron and George just finished the formula for their latest candy that would make the eater's hair turned into something else just for few seconds. The candy would have ugly side effects if they push for longer that 5 seconds, so they recomputed their formula and decided to settle for 3 and 1/2 seconds. Plus, the revised restricted formula/recipe of the candy would help them not violate some Ministry laws on consumption goods that are related to changing of physical appearance, which Hermione had advised Ron and George about.

Harry said that Minerva chuckled after telling her that Ron actually got the idea from her. From that one time he saw Minerva in muggle clothes when she joined them to go to a muggle diner… of how Ron was so shock on how Minerva seemed like a different person just with different clothes and with a less severe hair-bun… Minerva even laughingly responded that perhaps she should send a bill to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes for product conceptualisation fee.

Furthermore, Minerva was the one who brought the idea to Harry if Ron and George would consider having the product be named in relation to Metamorphmagus, particularly to Nymphadora Lupin, as it does adjunct its uniqueness. But of course it was mere suggestion and really up to them, and upon approval from Andromeda. It turned out that George really loved the idea, and Andromeda actually got teary eyed at the tribute. Hence, 'Be Tonks Candies' will be out sometime this year at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.

Hermione could still hear Katie trying to ease her gaffe that she was convinced she had made when she told them on how her new look came about. She felt bad and thought about saving the **quidditch player** by telling her of how Ron and George made Harry take one candy that had her olive-eyed best friend completely bald for 3 and 1/2 seconds. She knew the funny account would end Katie's current mortification.

"So Montrose's chance this year to win the cup is better? Is Mr. Campbell still hands on with the team?"

Minerva was the one who made to save the **quidditch player** in her discomfort by steering into another topic… one about Katie… about her quidditch team… about Minerva's favorite team. Hermione suddenly felt a certain displacement, and it amplified the jealousy inside her.

"We can only hope so Ma'am." Katie relieved countenance is apparent as she hurriedly got hold of the escape topic…

"And yes, Mr. Campbell is much hands-on. Like earlier, he attended the team's practice. I didn't think I could catch today's luncheon since Coach was not too keen that I cut practice short. But Mr. Campbell approved that I could skip the rest of the afternoon's practice when I told him that the reason is my wanting to go to today's commemoration. Then he asked that I give his regards to you Ma'am."

"Convey my regards back Ms. Bell."

"Will do Ma'am."

"Angus Campbell is the most quidditch embedded person I have ever met."

"Yes, yes." Said Katie as she nodded her head several times. "The first time I met him, he told me he's married to several people, mostly at the same time, and I am marrying him too. I was shocked until he laughed at my face that he meant the Montrose Magpies team members."

"The very same thing I heard from him 50 years ago..." responded Minerva with slight tone of reminiscence.

Hermione realized that she must be mental— for feeling a very wide array of emotions, and all at the same time... She is jealous to hear something that Minerva had experience that Katie also experienced. She is hopeful at the thought of marrying Minerva one day. She is envious to not have seen Minerva play quidditch. And she is beginning to really hate Katie for merely having this conversation with Minerva…

"Ma'am, he told me that he recruited you. But that—"

Katie paused and despite the jealousy and another bunch of emotions that are incarcerating Hermione, she could read Katie's internal debate on how to proceed with something that is obviously about Minerva McGonagall outside of her being 'The Headmistress'. And Hermione is inherently curious, ESPECIALLY about Minerva. For a moment, she shuffled her jealousy and its companions behind, and let curiosity overtake them.

"—Mr. Campbell said that he wanted you with Montrose the moment he saw you in a game in your fifth year… But Sir Dumbledore didn't allow you to play in the professional league because you just turned 16, plus he insisted that you finish Hogwarts first…"

"Angus Campbell told you that?" Asked Minerva with mild surprise.

"Just this morning after he told me to say hello to you from him… So wow, you were really just in your fifth year and they already wanted you to play with them! You could have been the youngest professional player, because up to now the youngest that made pro are couple of 17 year olds. You must be a superb **quidditch player** Headmistress!"

Predictably, Minerva responded with a dismissal of the acclaim given to her. "It was really untested against professionals. And you do know Ms. Bell that a player could be an early bloomer who would tap out once playing professionally. Or like yourself, advancing and maturing your playing skills as you play more."

"Mr. Campbell said that Sir Dumbledore's refusal and your nasty fall playing against Slytherin in your seventh year where you busted your ribs and had your head in concussion effectively stole Montrose's decades of winning streak."

"Angus Campbell had been saying that for over five decades just to stir intrigue of 'what could have been'. But really, that was just that, an overly presumption, and unmerited one if I may say."

"He said he saw you _free drive_ in one of your match at Hogwarts and until now he has not seen anyone else does it like you did. Sure, couple of players learned how to do the maneuver, but his words were, 'none like McGonagall's grace and technique'. He said he was surprised when you registered your animagus form as Tabby cat and not a flying kind as he was sure you can already fly."

"He's a wonderful man but always been an exaggerated one. It comes with his territory to promote hype for his team. But really Ms. Bell, that was too inaccurate. What is accurate is how you are now winning games for them."

Hermione watched Katie beamed and she was shocked at how she wanted to slap the smile out of this **quidditch player**. And almost did so when Katie rolled out her invitation to Minerva.

"I know the Headmistress is absolutely loaded with duties, but Ma'am if you ever find yourself free or just wanting to have fun, please do know that we would love to have you at the games! Please, please just owl anytime and we will get you the best seats!"

"I appreciate the invitation Ms. Bell."

Hermione heard Minerva's response and she focused her gaze at Katie, and refused to look at emeralds that she felt directed on her. She really does not want to make another foolish emotional declaration.

"And If I am not mistaken, your next game is actually against your old team. Good luck and have fun wiping their idiotic gender bias proclivity."

Hermione watched Katie beamed further. She found herself pocketing her hands into her robes to prevent herself from actually committing a senseless act— like slapping Katie.

Hermione heard Katie confirmed that they are playing next Saturday against Lanchashire. She also heard her say that she invited Ron and Harry, and that even Ginny is game-on as her best friend's wife is still on leave from the Harpies. She also heard about George, Angie, Jordan and Neville coming to watch as well.

Hermione could not believe the strange emotions brewing inside her. She tried to identify them once again and she located an added mixture of aghast, anger, annoyance, and a great deal of antagonism.

Then she felt a touch on her shoulder; Katie's one hand is on her again. Vaguely she realised that Katie just invited her to watch the game. And that she has not given a response; she has not even given an acknowledgement. And that is probably why Katie had touched her to get her attention. So Hermione dragged herself to the here and now and completely tune back in to what Katie is saying to her.

"I… I know you don't like quidditch much but I thought maybe you would like to watch the game with our friends. And then after, maybe I could treat you guys to dinner."

"Why?" Hermione asked bluntly. And immediately she was half guilty at the harshness of her question to Katie's offer. Then somehow her guilt turned to the hilt when Katie withdrew her hand and clasped and unclasped with its partner. And suddenly Katie sported a very shy expression.

"Uhmn, I know we sort of crash your dinner celebration on your charms mastery last Friday and… and—"

Remembering her manners, and on how to use her brain, Hermione interrupted Katie's obvious self-reproach. "No Katie, it was okay—"

"Harry said that you were fine with it when you found out that Ron extended his invite to George who extended it to Angie who extended it to me. On how Neville and Jordan got there, I actually don't know. I know you said it wasn't really a big deal. And you made us feel that it wasn't so. It's just that afterwards when I thought about it, I had a super delayed realization that we intruded your dinner with your best friends. So please, let me make up for it."

Katie rambled and Hermione felt bad about it. And then her brain reminded her furthermore of her public persona. That she is now a Ministry Department Head and there are certain courteous expectations that come with such. But above all, she cannot dismiss Katie's gallantry. After all, the witch is considering her as a 'friend'…

Hermione inwardly sighed and decided to adopt appeasement, "Katie, there's no need." She even picked an honest amicable remark, "That dinner was great, George was hilarious. We all had a brilliant time. Don't worry about it, I promise."

"Okay… Then lets have another one and let me treat you guys this time."

Hermione inwardly curse. She's exerting effort to shove away her antagonistic feeling but Katie is really doing everything to direct it to herself… making Hermione hate her…

' _Why is she insisting? Watch her games? Have Dinner? Implying they are close friends?'_

And then it hit Hermione, and a massive cold sensation attacked her…

' _Katie is using her, using Harry, using them to get to Minerva? To get Minerva to watch a game—Katie's game? And also to get Minerva to a dinner— Katie's dinner treat? FUCKING **Q**_ _ **uidditch player**_ _! Katie wants Minerva? Katie WANTS Minerva!'_

"I was told this morning that Montrose is drawing my playing contracts for three seasons instead of just riding to expire my Lanchashire's contract." Turning to Minerva, Katie added, Mr. Campbell even said that he is inclined to make it to 5 seasons."

"Congratulations Ms. Bell! I heard Montrose is very generous to its players."

Minerva's another commendation to Katie turned the jealousy inside Hermione into full-blown warfare alongside insecurity, resentment, and wretchedness.

Hermione's impeccable memory is sometimes a curse as without warning, it prompted clear unwanted memories… One when Minerva called out Angelina one quidditch practice and later Harry told them that the woman was actually concerned with Katie's shoulder… Then the times that Katie 'celebrated' her good work in her Transfiguration classes and Katie's friends teased her about it. Maybe they were really teasing Katie about Minerva… Then that one time Minerva told her how Katie has a talent in Transfiguration…

Then further fragmentation enveloped Hermione. She thought about Minerva with Katie… Katie with Minerva… Then of other nameless witches with Minerva… Of Minerva getting any witch whenever she wants to. Of how others are more beautiful, talented and probably 'purer' blood than her…

Hermione's defence mechanism of fight or flight kicked-in, the winner as usual— is flight. She needed to get away from them. The sense of betrayal is eating her inside out…

"I apologise I need to—"

But Minerva cut her down, "Ms. Granger, please let me have few more minutes of your time as there is one more thing I need to discuss with you."

Hermione wanted to say no. But a hand on her shoulder trapped her— this time it was Minerva's.

Despite her current predicament, Hermione had to give it to Katie Bell and her unmistakable refinement. The **Quidditch player** quickly made way to take her leave after she briefly expressed once more of her hope to see them at the game and have that dinner.

The very moment they were alone, Hermione started, "Please excuse me Headmistress, I have to—"

Again, the emerald-eyed witch cut her down, and with almost inaudible voice told her, "I am not the one being wooed to a dinner date. You should not be the one harbouring that green monster."

Never before Hermione felt this jealous in her life that her brain and heart struggled to explain to her what just transpired. When Minerva withdrew her hand from her shoulder, she finally braved and met emerald eyes.

Disappointedly, most of the older woman's walls are raised. And Hermione's suffocating jealousy is thrusting her to just walk away from Minerva. But before she could do so, Minerva's much softer voice meant only for her, reached her—

"Darling, know that you are mistaken… But Harry is coming back, so we'll have to talk about this some other time."

And before Hermione could fully comprehend what Minerva meant, she did hear Harry's return so she pushed everything she was feeling into a compartment. Immediately she schooled her features into free and easy ones to escape Harry's sharpness.

* * *

End of Chapter

Year 2000

* * *


	20. Other Quidditch Players

**Year 2000 | 3rd Seventh of May**

**Still at the Luncheon**

* * *

" _Darling, know that you are mistaken… But Harry is coming back, so we'll have to talk about this some other time."_

_And before Hermione could fully comprehend what Minerva meant, she did hear Harry's return so she pushed everything she was feeling into a compartment. Immediately she schooled her features into free and easy ones to escape Harry's sharpness._

* * *

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to be so long. I was sidetracked by couple of people." Harry sat down at Minerva's other side and served them their replenishments.

"Thank you Harry."

"Thank you Harry."

Hermione and Minerva said at the same time.

Harry chuckled and told them, "You have no idea how sometimes I get confused to whom I am talking to when I'm with you separately because of your uncanny likeness."

For a moment Hermione did not know what to say back to Harry but she knew that a slightly out-of-place reaction and her best friend would pick on it.

"But Harry dear, Ms. Granger is no fan of Quidditch." Minerva interjected.

Hermione's words caught in her throat and she choked a little because the truth is, she was about to take a jab at one of Harry's favourite things in the world, which is in absolute contrast to what he just commented on her likeness with Minerva but the woman beat her into it.

Harry laughed and at the same time stood and went to Hermione's side. Softly he ran one hand at Hermione's back to aid her little choking and of course few seconds later, he teased her… "Why choke Mione, what were you about to say?"

"Nothing." Hermione denied, and both green eyes bore into her— the olive ones sparkled in amusement, while the emeralds carried a slight worry.

"Cough out Hermione before I voice out my own speculations on what your big brain just thought." Harry insisted with now unconcealed amusement.

Hermione smacked him lightly but knew that she better tell before her bloody best friend say something outrageous or worse compromising. So she murmured her supposed retort, which was— "But I can't play Quidditch to save my life!"

Even though Hermione unclearly said those words, both her companions clearly understood them. She caught Minerva's slight worry turned into a small smirk. And Harry's laughter rang as he returned to his seat at Minerva's side. And with almost smug tone he stated, "So uncanny alike even in— dissimilarities!" He air quoted the last word and laughed some more.

It was indeed funny and Hermione could not help but let out her own laughter, a genuine one. And then Minerva's deep chuckle accompanied it. Emeralds met chocolate ones and they amazingly communicated some sense of warmth, of which they've managed to hide from the wizard with them.

"Mione, guess who took me hostage at the refreshment table until I give proper answers or rather favorable answers?" Harry asked after his laughter died down.

"Answers to what questions by whom Harry?" Hermione countered and she caught Minerva's lips twitched in amusement.

Harry shook his head and rebutted, " _So alike"_ before giving clarification to what he was referring. "Someone wanted me to confirm that Ron wasn't lying when he said that you are not his girlfriend but his best mate."

"Ahhh…" Not the topic Hermione would want to talk about right now.

"This someone told me that at first he thought we…" Harry gestured between the two of them, "…we were 'lovers' with our 'hugging' and 'kissing', but apparently someone told him that I am loyally married to Ginny. Geez, I thought the news featured my wedding a little too much. Apparently not enough." Laughingly, Harry added, "He was a **Quidditch player** for the Gryffindors, you know."

Hermione shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly but internally prayed for Merlin's intervention to make Harry drop it. Words like 'girlfriend', 'lovers' and 'kissing' are truly the worst things that they could discuss right now— with Minerva with them. But she knew Harry is expecting her to play this topic without seriousness, as they have done so previously.

When she made Department Head and seemingly became more popular; Harry told her a couple of times that so and so had asked if she would be inclined to go on a date with them? Both of them would actually laugh when she would answer him with her standard answer— 'Unless she is the **fairest** witch, please do discourage them!'

It had become an inside joke between the two of them. Ever since she came out to Harry, she felt more and more comfortable saying something to that effect to him, but only to him… So their jesting was never done with someone else with them, not even with Ron as she has yet to figure out how to tell him… more so with the particular 'fairest witch' Hermione has in her mind and heart; something she had been carefully secreting from Harry.

"A Gryffindor **Quidditch player** — _"_ Minerva remarked with mock curiosity. And then to exclude Harry, emerald eyes silently repeated, ' _ANOTHER_ **Quidditch player** '.

"A supposed **Quidditch player** , but I am afraid one who cannot save a goal to save his life." Harry poked humorously.

' _Bloody Harry.'_ Hermione mentally cursed her best friend.

' _And Bloody Minerva.'_ Hermione mentally cursed the love of her life.

Hermione finally took the bait but only to shut it down completely, shut down both Harry and Minerva…

"Truly, I don't want to be subjected to 'A Hundred Great Saves Made by Cormack McLaggen' as I rather subject myself to reading all published Quidditch books or even play the bloody game and die of it."

Harry laughed again and Hermione also heard Minerva's suppressed chuckle.

"So please Harry, I hope you told him I am unavailable to him… UNAVAILABLE like— forever."

Hermione knew that her best friend would gather her 'unavailability' in reference to her being gay. And she could only hope that the older witch would gather her 'unavailability' for anyone else, but Minerva.

"And speaking of Gryffindor **Quidditch player** … here comes another…"

Hermione heard Harry and directed her gaze to where he was looking and saw Oliver Wood apparently coming towards them.

"Good afternoon Harry, Hermione, and especially to my most favorite head of house." Oliver Wood charmingly greeted them.

"Oh, silence Wood," Minerva satirically replied and both Oliver and Harry laughed heartily. There is no need for anyone to explain to Hermione how an inside joke went through her three companions as her golden brain told her so. But Harry being Harry gave a brief background of the joke in order to 'include' her.

Hermione gave an obliging smile. Then half listening to Oliver as he talks to Harry and Minerva, her mind started bringing her into another path.

At today's luncheon, while older wizards and witches made up the number who braved and talked to Minerva McGonagall, the slightly younger ones who did so are observably from the Gryffindor house— a sort of duplication of last year's commemoration… Although now, Hermione had remarked an additional difference…

Of course, excluding Harry, and somehow even Ginny, George, and for sure Ron (as the Weasleys have managed to penetrate one or two walls of Minerva), Hermione had observed that young wizards and witches who at some point played Quidditch for the house team, have had less reserved exchanges with Minerva McGonagall, despite the woman now donning the Headmistress title. These Gryffindors **Quidditch players** seem to share a particular rapport with the woman because of the bloody wizarding sport.

The realization resulted Hermione to go down a very outlandish musing… For the very first time, Hermione found herself seriously wishing that her so-called brilliance had included the talent of flying… particularly of playing brilliant Quidditch.

' _Do I now ask Harry to teach me to play Quiddtich?_ '

Bloody moronic thought had Hermione almost smack herself. Dear Merlin, when it comes to Minerva McGonagall, she had developed a knack of finding reasons to equally feel insecure and challenged to just push herself. Never mind that some of them are so outrageous…

Then somehow, Hermione heard her name from Oliver. "Sorry, what?" She asked Oliver and she felt more than she saw emeralds bore on her face.

"I asked, if you personally know Krum, Victor Krum? I bumped into him about two weeks ago at a Quidditch press release. I think my Hogwarts' jumper made him call-out to me. He asked if I know you… Know you...? The fellow is a bit slow eh, who does not know Golden Brain Hermione Granger?"

"Oliver—" Hermione tried to intersect because this is another topic she does not want to talk about. ' _What the hell these_ _ **Quidditch players**_ _are suddenly putting about…?'_

But Oliver didn't hear her, or ignored her and said,"I told him that of course I know you. And I asked what does he want with you? Then he asked if it is true that you had gotten married."

"What?" Harry reacted before Hermione could.

"Yes, he asked if Hermione got married last December—" turning fully to Harry, Oliver continued, "—married to you mate!"

Harry snorted and Hermione lightly punched her olive-eyed best friend. And then she denied emerald eyes of whatever would be in them by not looking at them. And she wanted to hex Oliver for bringing up such chat.

"That fellow is a very popular and talented **Quidditch player** but something's must be missing in his head…"

"Mr. Wood, that is not a nice thing to say about Ms. Granger's— friend." The way the older witch said 'friend' is irritating the hell out of Hermione. She could just hear the unspoken challenge of, ' _bloody green monster huh?_ ' and she gritted her teeth, because really, she still has not gotten past the thought of Minerva with Katie or Minerva with other witches…

"I'm sorry Headmistress for the negative talk. But, well, it's true… Anyway, he asked if I know where you live because he wants to visit you. I said I don't know as I don't actually know. But do you want me to tell him in case I see him again?" Oliver asked Hermione with unconcealed disbelief in his voice.

"No." Quickly Hermione answered, probably too quickly.

"He's a big name as a **Quidditch player** you know…?"

"Oliver—" She started to object but Oliver interrupted her.

"Okay, okay, okay… I'm just saying… But yea, Harry said you like someone like you… Someone brainy with multiple O's in NEWTs and multiple masteries… Anyway, I'm off to go. Harry, lets play Quidditch sometime for the heck of it… Headmistress, it is really great to see you Madame. I hope to visit you at the castle sometime."

Not long after Oliver left them, Harry started a conversation that made Hermione want to murder her best friend.

"You know Mione, I'm pretty sure that Ron would rather that you date Cormack than Krum."

"Yea, right." Hermione mockingly replied to Harry. Mentally, she screamed, _'What the hell Harry?'_ And her best friend continued on and ignored the look she just gave him.

"Ron said that Cormack is no longer that self-absorbed fellow after he lost his father during the war…. He had become responsible; working at the Department of Magical Games and Sports, you know that Hermione… Actually, Ron said that he would support you if you want to go out with him again."

"Yes, Ron told me so. But I reminded him that I really just went at that Slug party with Cormack because of you both— but mostly because of Ron who were irritating me so much that time. You know that **too** Harry." Hermione knew that she was stretching with details but she wanted to set the record straight and she wanted Minerva to get it.

"I'm just repeating Ron. I didn't say I agree." Harry raised both hands in surrender.

"Then don't repeat more of it! And Harry, stop telling people of what you told Oliver.. That sounds so… so egotistical."

"Ahhh, that. I only told Oliver to dissuade him."

"Huh?"

"Last January, I saw him at Diagon Alley holding a Daily Prophet where the front page was showing your photo with your Department Head promotion and all. He then asked me if you are dating anyone. I told him to turn his charm to other witches, as he would never get past your requirement on intelligence level. Told him that you are better suited with someone like you."

' _ANOTHER_ _ **Quidditch Player**_ _!'_ Emerald eyes expressed such with accusation and Hermione called out to Merlin to rescue her. Unfortunately, Merlin seemed so busy at the moment.

"You are not interested to date Oliver? Or are you?" Harry's piercing olive eyes interrogated her far more than the voiced questions.

' _Bloody Harry! Why is he asking something he knows the answer to and why bloody right now? Minerva is with them for fuck's sake! But then again, Harry has no idea about her and Minerva, or has he? Just bloody, bloody Harry!_

"Harry… I just meant to say that I don't want to sound that I think I am far better..." Hermione responded to Harry and mentally she added, _'I am not. Because if I am actually with such worth, how come I could not even afford to freely love Minerva?'_

"I think you are far better than anyone Mione because—

"You have no choice but to say that because I am your best friend." Hermione interrupted in a jesting manner before Harry could say something else she does not want Minerva to hear. But then Harry insisted to say more.

"You are better than anyone Mione."

"Harry—"

Harry pushed for some more, "You can't blame Ron about 'censoring your suitors'. You're our sister and we don't want you with someone less, when we believe that you deserve to be with someone who—"

"Harry—"

"—WHO will love you like no other. One who would take care of you for every second, even if you don't need taking care of."

To cover up with the shudder that went through Hermione, she just laughed at Harry and mockingly responded, "Okay Dad."

"I am serious Mione." Harry responded with dead gravity. And to make things more blade cutting if that was possible, her best friend issued a solicitation from the emerald-eyed witch with them. "Minerva, tell her she deserves no less."

"Indeed." A veteran in artfulness like no other, Minerva's automatic response sounded off without missing a beat.

Hermione completely declined her impulse to gaze at emeralds, for her chocolate ones might ask the woman of an imploring question in her heart— _'Then what must I do to deserve your love Minerva?'_

So to cover her true feelings once more, Hermione sent her questioning chocolate eyes mixed with exasperation at olive ones. Her bloody best friend merely grinned at her, and then made his final blow, "See love, Minerva agrees with me. And I remember you always adhering to what she says."

Hermione is now convinced that she has enough justification to kill Harry. But Merlin finally heard her and gave the rescue she had asked awhile ago; Ron arrived back and unknowingly interfered when he joined them.

* * *

**End of Chapter | Year 2000**

**Other Quidditch Players**

* * *

_What's up with Harry huh? :)_


	21. Indulgence, Evidence and the Third One

**Year 2000 | 3rd Seventh of May**

**A little later**

* * *

" _See love, Minerva agrees with me. And I remember you always adhering to what she says."_

_Hermione is now convinced that she has enough justification to kill Harry. But Merlin finally heard her and gave the rescue she had asked; Ron arrived back and unknowingly interfered._

* * *

Moments after Ron appeared at their table; Gil Williams, Kingsley's chief of staff apologetically told the Headmistress that the Minister requested for her, as it is time for 'that' matter they talked about.

Harry kissed the woman's one hand, and muttered about the woman working too hard— on a Sunday, on a luncheon.

"It's a brief meeting Harry. But in case you've left before the meeting adjourned, how about you visit me at Hogwarts tomorrow night?"

Hermione heard Minerva appeased Harry and somehow understood that the woman had set aside extra attention for him, and it is not just because the two have become more familial than ever. It is largely due to the fact that it is that time of the year, where everyone is much cognizant of the last war and thus the ugly loses caused by it…

Her best friend responded quite satisfied and Hermione irrational got jealous at the fact that Harry could and he just did issue a visiting date with the woman at Hogwarts. She also realized that while Harry was talking, emerald colored eyes sought hers, but it was too brief and too guarded for obviously that's all they both can afford… Then the woman was off to be the person she needed to be— Minerva McGonagall, unanimously referred by their kind as the principal witch currently affecting their world.

For another quarter of an hour, Hermione stayed a bit before she decided to leave the luncheon; convinced that it was unlikely to talk to 'Minerva' again. Sure the woman may return from their meeting but it would be 'The Headmistress'. She sighed internally and trumped down the longing of her heart…

"Harry, Ron, see you at the Burrow later?"

"You're going home?" asked Ron.

"Will make one swept check at my office then will head home for a bit of a rest before dinner at the Burrow. "

"Ginny will go there directly from here. But I'm also going home first. Do you want me to stop by at your flat so we can go to the Burrow together?"

Hermione knew that Harry is also checking on her with the war anniversary and all the revelations they shared just last year around this time. She gave him an assuring smile, "It's okay Harry. I'll just see you at the Burrow."

"Okay, Mione… But don't work anymore. Go directly home, you could use a rest. I know you've been pulling impossible hours again at work." Harry responded in gentle reproach.

"Just a swept check Harry, I promised." Hermione kissed him on the cheek good bye and when she also gave Ron a kiss she heard Harry's jest.

"Maybe we should stop public display of friendship so your admirers will not be baffled about us?

"Admirers? Who? Baffled on what?" Ron's perplexed question made Harry laughed.

Hermione gave Harry a glare, "It's nonsense Ron. Harry's nonsense!"

Harry laughed more, "I'll tell you later mate." And her best friends kissed her goodbye.

Hermione left her best friends with exasperated sigh and a light smack at Harry's upper arm. When she reached her office and saw several missives at her in-tray, she convinced herself that dealing with a couple of them can still be considered a swept check, as she promised Harry.

Half an hour later, Hermione's chocolate colored eyes is scanning over the details she is reading from the parchment set on her office desk, at the same time she is consuming with outmost relish the vanilla flavored ice cream that Minerva gave her earlier at the luncheon, yes not directly, but via Hogwarts elf. Nonetheless, it doesn't negate the fact that the woman had made preparations for her to have it.

Another savored scoop and Hermione found that she just finished the cup. Her eyes left her readings and checked that definitely she had finished the cup. She set it on her table and sighed at how much she literally **indulged** today.

"Good?"

Hermione grinned before her head directed towards the source of such question.

"Want more?"

Another question and Hermione thought that the question sounded in her head of how it was about something else…

"Not just good, but the best vanilla ice cream— one I don't think I could get enough." She answered for both questions... Including the one she imagined that was asked...

Hermione set aside the parchment she was reading and leaned back in her chair to properly observe her favorite witch with impossible emerald eyes. The woman is currently standing just inside the door, one shoulder leaning against the frame with arms loosely dropped.

"Is the luncheon upstairs over?"

"Not quite. People are still **indulging** at the ballroom."

"And the Headmistress…? She had enough of **indulgence**?"

"Is the Headmistress ever allowed of any **indulgence**?

The energy wavering in the air just behind Minerva caught Hermione's attention. The witch had casted a silencing charm. And with its optical attribute, it was most likely paired with screening charm. It meant that anyone beyond it could only see an empty office and hear nothing.

_How can she cast a screening charm inside the Ministry building?_

Sure, silencing charms can be casted inside the building, employees are generally just required to get clearance and it's no surprise that Minerva has one, even if the woman is officially not an employee. However, 'anti-screening charms' are laced almost within the entire building and heavily connected with its founding wards. Yet, Minerva clearly has no problem casting one. Hermione marvelled at Minerva's counteracting magic.

Likewise, Hermione internally smiled at Minerva's automatic meticulousness. And she bit her lips at its implication... The person who had arrived at her office is not the Headmistress, but Minerva, just Minerva.

They silently stared at each other for few minutes and Hermione realized that green eyes are without the damn walls…

"Hello Minerva." Hermione tested her supposition and her observation.

"Hello Hermione." Minerva understood her addressing.

For few more minutes they further stared at each other… Watching and observing and heavily testing their interaction at the moment...

Then Hermione went forth— "Do you want to **indulge** Minerva?"

A pause, and then a single nod came from the older woman in response. Hermione stood and magically sent the missive she was working on back to its filing cabinet behind her seat. When she turned back around to face Minerva, the woman was just moving into her space. She was about to ask her if they would just meet outside, as clearly walking out together is not an option when Minerva took hold of her arms and whispered, "Hold tight darling."

"You can disapparate from the Ministry!" Hermione gasped as soon as their feet landed. "How?" She asked plainly in surprise. And somehow, it registered into her consciousness that Minerva had taken them to her parent's old house in London, where Hermione brought them exactly last year after urging Minerva to leave Hogwarts with her.

"Don't tell anyone." Minerva answered into her ear and then she felt one hand snaked into her waist as they moved towards the back door and entered the house.

"I only know Kingsley is allowed to do that. But he has limitation on where to disapparate from the Ministry premises. And only after he would access the wards and shift them, which he could— being the Minister. And I could guess that only handful of people even know about such."

Hermione's brain is battling between curiosity and excitement. The way Minerva's arm had wrapped her is a dead give-away of what the woman is expressing as her intent. That they left not just to **indulge** for a private chat... However, her natural curiousness on the woman's power is bringing the nerd in her.

"So how can you shift the wards? Officially, you are not even a Ministry employee? How do you that? Wards are form of bond with the integral core of magical entity. Is this one of those you helped set mere days after the Hogwarts battle?"

"The ever- curious brilliant brain... Thoroughly attractive."

"You're attracted to my brain?"

"To you Hermione. I thought it was obvious."

"The only obvious thing about you is that nothing is obvious about you. Everything is multi-layered with anonymity."

Minerva chuckled and then whispered to her face, "Take me to bed Hermione. Is that clear enough?"

Hermione bit her lower lip as spike of arousal ran down her spine that she almost stumbled. As they speak, she is fully aware of how they are making their way upstairs to her bedroom to do exactly what Minerva has implied.

And oh yes, the glassy darker emeralds are plainly telling her of how the woman wants her right now. And frankly, she wants the woman as much... But as much as she is tempted to get down on her knees and push away Minerva's robes to immediately have the woman, she realized how equally she craves to extend this bantering with Minerva, especially when the woman is **indulging** her by giving answers unreservedly. And so Hermione did…

"Isn't four in the afternoon too early to sleep?" Hermione teased.

"Shocking how the brightest witch is currently scarce on comprehension." Minerva teased back without missing a beat. "Where is the heralded brilliant lady that is so popular these days with admirers at every turn? Especially with those blasted Quidditch players..."

"Oh I don't know about her… But this one—" Hermione pointed to herself, "This one who is supposed to have a golden brain is always faltering whenever with present company…" Hermione said with somewhat serious expression but deep inside she was electrified when she thought she had caught a jealous ping from Minerva's remarks on such Quidditch players.

"I highly doubt the golden brain is capable of faltering..."

"It's nothing but true… as present company is this magnificent witch who could render anyone into paralyzing state, particularly the supposed golden brain…"

"Surely that is of grievous fallacy."

"Surely we could do a comprehensive assessment of **evidence** …"

" **Evidence** of nonsense I say…"

Hermione held her smile at Minerva's super dry tone laced with impatience. She kept her serious expression but suddenly drew her arms around Minerva's neck just after they shut her bedroom door behind them where she had gently pushed Minerva against it... She maintained her severity and withheld her smile, even when strong arms enveloped her waist. She has every intention to prolong her teasing of Minerva.

"Submitting **evidence** A… " Hermione started with such firm tone that had Minerva cocked her head in question of what she is blabbering about.

Without taking her eyes off emeralds, she whispered a spell that freed raven silky hair from its confining bun.

"Many times, all this golden brain could recall is how such luxurious hair looks and feels against one's fingers running through them…"

Minerva's eyes involuntarily closed as Hermione ran her fingers in them that she started from the older woman's nape. She repeated the stroke two more times and despite her best effort to play strict with her **evidence** exhibition, she could not help herself but placed a soft kiss on thin lips. The action had Minerva opened her eyes, and after a beat, she leaned forward to clearly have more kissing. But Hermione decided to continue with her teasing and made some space between them.

" **Evidence** B…" She continued, which earned her a perfect raised brow after emeralds mock glared at her. A chuckle escaped Hermione but she quickly schooled back her features with seriousness.

" **Evidence** marked B, is that no matter how impeccable de-glamour charm had been casted, this golden brain could not un-see the true, raw and beautiful face of such present company."

Hermione watched emerald eyes expressed fleeting disbelief, then a bit of wonder, and then apparent acceptance of her pronouncement. Her own heart constricted at the utmost pleasure that eventually settled on Minerva's face.

"Please?" Hermione heard Minerva softly asked and she understood that the older witch requested her to take down the mentioned charm. It was not lost on Hermione that the request is actually a grant from Minerva on stripping the older woman's mask. She skillfully did so and after she dropped her wand, her hand gently palmed the raw, revealed face of Minerva.

"I know I just said how I cannot un-see this—" Hermione took a deep breath before she continued, "And yet, you still take my breath away when you let me see you this way."

In response, Minerva let out a truest smile. In effect, Hermione observed that it amplified the beauty in front of her. For the second time, she could not help herself— she placed a soft kiss on Minerva's lips. But again stepped back afterwards.

" **Evidence** marked C—" she continued, and this time she earned a chuckle from Minerva that midway turned deep when she decided to direct her hands to the first button of the older woman's simple dress-robes. She started undoing the buttons one after the other as she teased Minerva…

"This golden brain cannot comprehend how on earth were you able to hide this amazing body? And more importantly— why?"

Hermione knows that emeralds are boring into her after she dropped the materials away that left Minerva in her inner thin slip. She then went low and manually unlaced the witch's boots and altogether got them off. When she stood back up and feasted her brown eyes on such body, she had to gather her wits as the need to ravish the woman began. But somehow, moments with Minerva wherein she can tell the woman her uncensored thoughts are equally precious to her, and she chose to take the whole course of it.

"I'm glad you are not perilously thin anymore. I was afraid you'll get sick with all your skipping of meals because you're always working." Hermione honestly stated her concerns in reference with the woman's too thin body that she had held the last time they were together.

"One brilliant witch wanted me to dine properly. And I didn't want her to worry about it…"

Minerva's response thoroughly brought Hermione's heart to erupt in happiness… In her mind, unspoken two short words of 'For You', is the full meaning of what the woman just said.

"Because for certain, a Mr. Longbottom is unsuspectingly serving information regarding my dinning attendance at the great hall to one wizard who is also somehow 'sharing' such 'report' to his best friend. And this best friend is actually this brilliant witch I promised that I would try better…"

Hermione could not contain her gladness and likewise laughed at Minerva's entire disclosure. Truthfully, such exact thoughts just paraded her mind… That the Headmistress is no longer absent during dinner at the great hall whenever the woman is in the castle… and indeed she had learned it from Harry who learned it from Neville...

"But good heavens Minerva, just one year of proper dining and… and... is this really how amazing your body is when not battling with war…?" Hermione ran her eyes again over Minerva and another thought popped into her head and she made a segway… "Did you not join Montrose Magpies because while thick oppressive robes can easily hide this amazing body, Quidditch uniform would definitely parade it?"

Amused but laced with stunned expression appeared on Minerva's face before a retort was issued, "Albus didn't allow me—"

"Oh please, I am certain that not even Albus Dumbledore can stop 16 year-old Minerva McGonagall from anything if she really, really wants to do it."

The corner of Minerva's mouth twitched and Hermione knew that what she had driven is spot on.

"So even at 16 you already hated attention in general? To be the youngest professional Quidditch player would not escape such attention for certain! And imagine the countless fans who would gawk at the beautiful face and incredible body of said Quidditch player…"

Internal debate of whether she would be glad that Minerva detest attention but somewhat accepted hers, or be sad that Minerva is really that suffocatingly private, attempted to discharge for examination but Hermione quenched this particular thought. Instead, she proceeded to sit on the side of the bed to take her own boots and continued to prod Minerva on her dismissal of her once professional Quidditch offer.

"Dumbledore didn't really disallow you to play professional Quidditch, right?" She asked lightly after she had set her shoes aside. When she looked back up at the enticing half naked woman just few feet away from her, another shudder ran through her spine. Quite unconsciously, she also started undoing the top button of her own dress robes.

"No. He was ecstatic that Magpipes recruited me…" responded Minerva who went to sit beside her and took over in undressing her. "Albus was convinced that it was opportune that I get an avenue at such age to dispense my 'unspent' passion before I delved into serious career choices as he knew I was aiming to get masteries and work at MLE after Hogwarts."

The hairs on Hermione's skin started to rise with Minerva's hands slowly undressing her. At this point, she is already having a hard time maintaining the conversation, but she knew she is learning unknown facts about the woman and she didn't want to squander the chance.

"Then why—" Hermione interrupted her own question because like as always, her quick brain made the connection. "Oh you had Dumbledore say to them that he wanted you to finish Hogwarts first. You didn't want people to know that you were rejecting a 'golden' opportunity to play professional Quidditch. You are more interested—" she gasped before she concluded, "Oh you loved academics more but didn't want anyone to know that, so you made the rejection as Dumbledore's doing!"

"Albus didn't mind…"

"Did he actually become your legal guardian before you reach age?"

"We are really talking about this while undressing?"

"Yes, I am curious. So, did he legally have a hold on you that time when your cousin was still not located?"

"No… But we knew people assumed so, and we never corrected any."

"How was that not challenged…? No, scratch that. Of course he was Albus Dumbledore! Who would challenge the wizard?"

"Precisely… And while my fellow teammates at Hogwarts were threatened by our Head House—Albus, to keep good school marks or else be taken out of the team, he promised slash threatened me that he'll throw our unspoken cover and let me deal with Montrose if I don't stop reading all the time and start actually having fun… Like playing Quidditch not just during the games but play more for the fun of it."

Hermione laughed at Minerva's revelation. She could just picture Minerva grudgingly discarding Hogwarts' library and heading to the ground to play Quidditch for the Gryffindors.

"Oh poor you! Not allowed to study, but forced to have fun." Hermione teased and Minerva dived at her and they rolled into the bed playfully. Her heart beats faster not just from laughter but also from their current engagements where Minerva has now pinned her down on the bed, with only her bodice and Minerva's slip preventing their naked bodies from direct contact."

"I was actually enjoying playing Quidditch, I was not enjoying the attention." Minerva said in mock indignant and then actually tickled Hermione's sides.

"No-no-no! You're exposed, Miss-McGonagall-who-would-not-put-her-books-down! Oh I would beat all my galleons that you are the only one who rather stay studying at Hogwarts than play professional Quidditch if given the offer!"

Hermione's laugher is resounding in her bedroom. Then she remembered her earlier insane thought of asking Harry to teach her to play Quidditch and that seemed to add to her laughter. Still laughing hard, she somehow told Minerva of it. Of how she thought that Harry would at first be very excited to teach her and then probably kill her after few sessions in frustrations at her.

"That's part of my **Evidence** —" still teasing Minerva she continued her earlier jabs and in between chuckles she said, "My brain loses its ability to filter things it aspires. Minerva Mcgonagall compels this supposedly golden brain to want to do something I am bloody likely to die doing— like learn to play brilliant Quidditch!"

In response, Minerva's lips crashed on hers and her joyful laughter was interrupted. Naturally, Hermione could do nothing else but respond with fervor…

When they parted for a needed breath, she removed Minerva's undergarments and then assuredly pushed the woman into her back and followed to straddle her. Subsequently, she maneuvered to discard the rest of her own clothes and instinctively closed her eyes when Minerva's one hand reached up and lightly massaged her breast.

"Darling… Mione, you're so beautiful…" Hermione heard Minerva's deep brogue, and when she opened her eyes, she found emerald eyes intensely focused on her face. In answer, she wanted to tell the woman that she could happily drown in such impossible emerald eyes. But Hermione words already caught in her throat from the powerful sensation coursing through her. And all together got lost when Minerva pulled her down and have their lips passionately engaged…

Hermione's impeccable memory of what Minerva likes, and how the woman likes them, plus her own body seem to have learned how to bring more pleasure to the woman, resulted into having Minerva moan in such volume unlike their previous times…

Along with the moans, Gaelic words are intertwining with them that Hermione is scrambling to collect and file them into her brain so she could translate them later. Fleetingly, Hermione promised herself to learn the language and firmly clasped Minerva's hip with one hand to have her mouth suck harder on the woman's bud, while her other hand has the two fingers busy with their assured entering and withdrawing movements.

Hermione herself could feel warm all over and definitely fully aroused at just the fact that Minerva has her legs confidently opened to her, but when her turned whiskey colored eyes stole a glance upward, she almost came herself at the sight.

Minerva's right hand is on one of her own breast clenching it and the uncovered one has its nipple exposing its hard rock state. The other hand is stretched overhead clenching somehow the sheets and thoroughly showing the woman's wonderful tighten arm. But most of all, the expression on Minerva's face is one Hermione would forever treasure, the woman is utterly in rapture. That led Hermione's ministrations more resolute and she poured all the love she could into it… and not long, they delivered Minerva off the edge.

Delicately, Hermione cleaned Minerva including her fingers that she gently pulled out, which were coated with the woman's essence after she let Minerva rode her climax as long as she could. She started softly kissing her way up as she let the woman recover. When she had climbed back and their eyes finally locked, Hermione finally voiced her earlier thoughts.

"I could definitely drown in your eyes when you look at me like that Minerva…"

"Thusa a-mhàin…"

Hermione heard Minerva's murmured Gaelic words and before her brain could catch up to ask what it means, Minerva flipped their places and had her pinned underneath. The woman began kissing, nipping, and licking her body and the question vanished in her mind with pure sensation dominating her being.

At some point when Minerva released the breast she was feasting on with clear direction to go south and ultimately bring her off the edge, Hermione found herself halting the older woman's movement by embracing her tight and then whispered, "Not that…"

Minerva travelled back up and kissed Hermione's lips before she softly asked, "You don't want me tasting you?"

"I do... But not now..."

"Then darling, what do you want?"

"You… inside… I want… I need you inside Minerva…"

Hermione felt Minerva's hand traveled down her body in answer to her want… But then she halted the fingers from entering and instead brought them up to her mouth, kissed them and it somewhat told Minerva that it is also not what she has in mind…

"Alright, tell me what you truly want" slightly amused Minerva asked while she rubbed their noses in caress. In such beautiful face is a clear curiosity of what Hermione wants… and how it was trying to figure out what it is…

"You… inside…" Hermione repeated her earlier words, pressed her hand on Minerva's backside that brought two cores closer but her other hand summoned a vine dragon heartstring— her wand and passed it to Minerva. "You are the Transfiguration Master of all…"

Amusement gone and emerald eyes turned into dark glassy ones of apparent wild lust, moreover such was evident in thick-laced Scottish voice that sounded in response, "Are ye sure darling?"

"Yes. Please?"

For several long moments none of them move nor say anything more. When it stretched further and Minerva seemed to be in frozen state, doubt crept into Hermione. As much as she really wants to be with Minerva is such way, which she didn't even know how the thought came to her, she would not have it unless the woman is certain that she wants it as well. She conveyed it so…

"But Minerva…only if you want to…"

"I do Hermione…"

"Only if you are as certain as I am…"

"I am… Fuck, I do want it with you…"

Hermione shuddered on the manner in which Minerva had confirmed her want… She could not be more aroused now with the obvious lust in Minerva's words… She watched the woman moved away for a little space and watched her made a complicated incantation… And Hermione for sure was in awe at Minerva's graceful proficiency in transfiguration…

A wand dropped into the floor and Minerva's ragged intake of breath brought Hermione into complete realization of the heavy significance of their intentions. Also, at the tight-shut eyes of Minerva, she asked in concern, "Are you okay?"

"Yes…" Breathless answer from Minerva ignited doubt in Hermione's guts but it quickly became of utter exhilaration with the rest of what the woman said. "I just— I have only done this during that practical exercise when I was studying for the mastery exam. I forgot about the immense sensation it creates…"

_Minerva had not done this with anyone else._

Hermione's pulse shot quicker at the revelation that Minerva has never shared this act with anyone.

Both of them have never.

"Darling…" Minerva whispered into her face after giving her a kiss. Eyes grievously boring at each other, the woman pushed entry into Hermione.

The sharp stretching pain had Hermione gasped. Her body demanded an adjustment since Minerva's transfigured part is incomparable in size to what she had with Minerva's fingers from their previous encounters… more so against her own fingers when she pleasures herself… Attentively, Minerva had stilled any moments and Hermione's memory pulled their ever first time; she wondered if the same recollection is happening with the older woman…

Then moments later, Hermione spoke and she herself was astonished with her very low voice, "Move darling… please…"

Minerva withdrew and then pushed in the entire length for the first time that had them moan loudly together. Hermione gripped Minerva's lower back and they both started that dance as old as time…

Their present movements had Hermione's body quivered like never before… Unable to keep her eyes open, she let herself be reduced with no other thoughts but of the woman in her arms— of the woman she is absolutely in love with— Minerva…

_I love you Minerva._

The truest declaration in Hermione's heart swirled in Hermione's mind as thoughts and powerful feelings of making love with Minerva drenched her…

Of loving Minerva with her body… of loving Minerva with her mind… of loving Minerva with her soul… of loving Minerva with all her heart… of loving Minerva with every fiber of her being…

Hermione felt the build to that precipice…

_"I love you Minerva."_

And the blinding light consumed her…

When the explosion started to ease and Hermione's mind finally caught up to the here and now, of how Minerva had ceased movement, she opened her eyes and met aroused, conflicted, and loving emeralds… and fighting such— fear…

Then it hit Hermione that the three words she had carefully taught herself not to ever voice out loud to Minerva, for utmost fear that it will make the woman run off— actually slipped past her lips during her highest state of passion…

_Fuck._

And just as she had known, these unbidden three words would and it did completely render Minerva fearful…

_Fuck._

"Hermione… I… I…"

Almost roughly, Hermione placed one hand over Minerva's lips and interrupted her…

"Minerva, don't…"

Not wanting to let go of the woman despite the ensuring pain ignited inside her from such confirmation of her own fear, she let herself fall into the pit...

"Don't Minerva... Just let me… just let me love you."

Then she did not permit for any response and pulled down the woman quite firmly and crashed her lips to hers… Eyes closed, she gathered Minerva in her arms and rolled over to have the witch underneath her.

Decidedly, Hermione did not let Minerva's lips for any respite when she began moving on top of the woman to take Minerva in and out of her… In fact, while her one hand had anchored her weight, her other hand had dug into Minerva's luxurious hair to keep the woman's head in place as she crashed her mouth into Minerva's.

Vaguely, Hermione could feel Minerva's strive to ease her somewhat vehement kisses by responding with tenderness but not with less passion. When she felt Minerva's hand took hold of her waist and rear to support their movements, she finally let her mouth leave Minerva's and travelled them to the woman's jaw and neck. She buried her face at Minerva's neck and then sucked on the pulse she located, which resulted into Minerva giving her an almost guttural moan. Amazingly, knowing how it was pleasuring the witch so much, it triggered Hermione into her own higher plane of arousal.

"This feels so fucking good…" Hermione cried out and she was surprised with her own words and even more surprise with the ones that followed them. "Minerva, say that it feels as fucking good to you! Say it fucking does..."

"Aye... Dar-ling-it-does..."

Hermione can feel the hot pulsing inside her and when she moved for better leverage, she bravely opened her eyes and look at Minerva's face... Enormous tremble ran through her spine after she found the never before this glassy state of the woman's emeralds. The desire that is currently staring deeply into her face took her breath away. The intensity was too much that it had Hermione shut her eyes. Again she brought her mouth into Minerva's and asked for the witch's tongue that she sucked when it acquiesced. Then giving everything and more of herself, she continued to move on top of the woman she loves above all, continued to push themselves into the edge. And so it was not very long that Minerva started convulsing... And then the released essence inside Hermione triggered her own rapture…

Quivering and panting, Hermione rode the pleasure together with Minerva... And awhile later, she made the effort to slide into her side to avoid crushing Minerva with her weight. When she did, the woman followed her and wrapped her arms tightly… Then they meet in a tender kiss…

* * *

**End of Chapter | Year 2000**

**Indulgence, Evidence and the Third One**

* * *

* * *

AN:

... Screening charms – just my invention.

... Thusa a-mhàin translation in English is 'only you'. But I got it from Google so let me know if it is wrong or imprecise.

... I am still just borrowing from JK Rowling and her marvellous magical playground.


	22. Old Scar

**Year 2000 | 3rd Seventh of May**

**Later on**

* * *

_Quivering and panting, Hermione rode the pleasure together with Minerva... And awhile later, she made the effort to slide into her side to avoid crushing Minerva with her weight. When she did, the woman followed her and wrapped her arms tightly… Then they meet in a tender kiss…_

* * *

"It's almost gone…"

Minerva's inaudible voice disturbed the silence… It was ten minutes, or it was thirty, or maybe an hour when one of them finally spoke while wrapped in each other's arms… Hermione could not tell how long they've stayed silent after Minerva gently withdrew from her and made incantations that reversed the transfiguration… Immediately after, the older witch buried herself under her chin, exactly in the same manner she did the previous times they were together in bed.

In contrast to the stillness of the room, Hermione's emotions are in haywire. She is very much cognizant that both of them seemingly elected to not say anything about her mad confession of love and of the woman's fearful reaction to it… She is trying her damnest to not drown in heartache from the newest rejection from the woman she loves so much… And trying her damnest to treasure the fact that the woman has not bolted from her arms… That Minerva is still clutching herself to her body…

Hermione fought to push all unwanted feelings into a compartment and instead concentrated on an old thought— to take whatever the woman is giving her… Because to receive nothing would be most unbearable… When she managed to somehow close the lid on her throbbing heart, she addressed what Minerva had said that broke the silence, "According to the text, it should be completely gone in a month."

Then she felt Minerva place a tender kiss on her _almost healed_ **scar** … The one that Bellatrix wronged during her capture… The one that Minerva just commented about being _almost gone_ … And the one she is expecting to be _completely gone in a month_ …

Her _mud blood_ **scar** …

Few months after the war when she first consulted St. Mungos Head Hypatia Allis on how to get it healed, she was wholly disheartened to be told that even the greatest healer cannot heal it… that medical magic won't do… She was told that the **scar** was laced with dark magic of _personal curse_ … That the only way to have it gone is to perform a highly complex ritual to counter the curse… At that moment, Hermione wanted to bring Bellatrix to life— just to kill the woman herself.

Then one night, Hermione found one Draco Malfoy at her door…

"Headmistress McGonagall said that I ask you to read this before you send me away…"

Draco quietly stated as he extended a sealed note to her before she could say anything… And whether Draco Malfoy knows it or not, 'MCGONAGALL' is a password that would get Hermione to relent in a snap. She reached for the note and felt the _sealing charm_ placed on it for the intended confidentiality.

_..._

_Darling,_

_Give him 5 minutes to tell you why he came…_

...

Despite the uncertainty that started in her guts at the wizard's appearance in her flat, Hermione had to hold her smile at Minerva's _tactic_ use of such endearment; the woman simply knows how to get her to do anything… Without saying a word, she moved to let the Slytherin wizard into her flat. When she shut her door, she firmly said, "You have 3 minutes to say why you are here."

Draco merely nodded in acceptance, but instead of hurrying to spill out his reason for coming, he purposely pulled two heavily wrapped items from his robes and had his grey eyes met hers in silence for few seconds before he spoke…

"This is a potion I brewed 16 weeks ago for 17 hours— in another week, it'd be ready for its purpose… And this one is my mother's knife. A sister to Bellatrix's silver knife..."

A cold shudder assaulted Hermione and she needed to exert all effort not to outwardly show it. Her brain was quick to alert her that the mere arrival of Malfoy at her door signified something of grave matter, more so with him bearing Minerva's letter… And yet she found herself thoroughly off-guard when she heard the name 'Bellatrix', followed by words of 'silver' and 'knife'.

"And Ms. Granger, I will not insult your intelligence to explain why I brought them and myself here…"

Hermione heard the solid pronouncement. Also, she did not miss how the wizard addressed her name with a title, including its courteous tone that was far from the spitting contempt she was used to hear from him back when they were students.

In her internal struggle to find leverage, she re-directed her focus away from the two items placed by the wizard on her coffee table, to the note she had read earlier, the one penned by no other but Minerva… She found herself scanning the short message again, as if she could talk to the woman of what she ought to do with what had been brought to her…

The 'heal' to her 'mud blood' **scar** …

When Hermione finally braved it and read-up on the ritual that can heal her **scar** , on what Hypatia actually meant of its complexities— it was then that she had learned of how it was as good as impossible to counter the curse embedded in her **scar** … That she'll have Bellatrix mark of 'mud blood' in her arm— forever…

First she learned that she needed a potion. One that would take 17 laborious hours to brew and 17 weeks to be set aside before it can be of use. While she could take the time and attention to make it, she is doubtful that she can obtain half of the ingredients. Several specimens needed are so rare and therefore extremely expensive, of which she would not spree her money on— not to mention that if she decides to risk almost exhausting her Gringgots account, she has no idea where to procure these ingredients.

Secondly, she learned she needed the abominable knife itself— Bellatrix silver knife, which Harry destroyed after he buried Dobby at the Shell Cottage… But even though that was lost, Hermione learned that another knife would do, as long as it was made from the same collection. But the absurd notion of tracking the makings of the said weapon and finding them told Hermione that she'd never get rid of her **scar** …

The third and final requisite and the most impossible to acquire is the participation of the offender— Bellatrix Black Lestrange, who is dead… Or— any of her blood relative within third degree… While technically Harry is now closed with Andromeda and baby Teddy, and she herself is more than casual acquaintance with them, she would never involve them. How could she when the ritual includes carving the same violation on their skin? And such repugnance must be done _for three times_ with seven days interval for the full counter curse to effect. It does not matter that it will not be permanent on them and would be gone within an hour; Hermione would never ask them to endure the same pain that she experienced…

Thus the impossibility of obtaining the three requisites simply sealed her fate that she'll have to withstand the **scar** 's permanence on her… She convinced herself that she can deal with it for the rest of her life and it shall not define her as a person… She even tried to consider the **scar** as her war souvenir. And humorously told herself that at least she gets to hone her concealment charm for the permanent practice it'd provide… Nonetheless, there were times that she'd wish with all of her heart that she could get rid of it…

Then Draco Malfoy arrived with the three requisites…

"You have to tell me if you want me to come back in 1 week when the potion completed its required setting period and we can start the first of the three rituals. I have studied the full text for several months now— so I know what it entails…"

"Malfr—Draco…" Hermione re-centered herself before she continued, "Tell me why you are doing this?"

Set of grey eyes darted to the ground before they came back up and accompanied grievous words of submission. "There is no reason why I should not."

For Hermione, that was not good enough. And she was stunned with her subsequent question but she decided that she wanted to know the answer… "Are you doing this because the Headmistress ordered you?"

"She said you would say that..." Amusement flickered in grey eyes before full grievousness came back with the rest of his words. "And she said that she leaves it to me on how to answer you…"

"So what is your answer…? WHY are you doing this?" Hermione challenged.

It was not lost on her that although Minerva McGonagall is not in the room, the woman's hands are all over the situation… And yet, the woman exceptionally ensured that it isn't entirely so… That the ultimatum of what to happen is in fact of Malfoy's undertaking… And of Hermione's acceptance…

"My answer is that—" Draco paused and took a deep breath, "The night that you were _tortured_ at my house… when I did nothing… when I did not do the right thing when I know what I should have done— is the night I am most ashamed of myself…"

Hermione clenched her jaw at the admission. "It was war—" she started but stopped at Draco's slightly raised hand. She saw him exerted effort to control his trembling hand, and observed a tickle of sweat at the side of his face…

Draco took another deep breath, locked eyes with hers, and then he seemed to force himself with the rest of what he wanted to convey…

"And if doing this would elevate even a small amount of that shame, then carving myself for three times is a small price I am going to beg you to let me pay…"

A week later, when Draco knocked at her flat, she silently let him enter and led him to her living room for the first of the three rituals… After they completed the incantations and each took a spoonful of the potion, Hermione watched in horror how the knife on its own will carved into Draco's arm…

Hermione clearly saw the wizard fought his tears, and failed miserably… Grey eyes reeling in pain made her unhinged… completely unhinged that it was only when Malfoy was gone that she realized that she did not even let the man in agony stay for a short respite… The led her to feel ashamed of herself and strangely made her believe Draco's words of his regret for not doing the right thing…

When the knife dropped to the floor after the second ritual, and as Draco poorly gathered himself to depart, Hermione managed to tell Draco to stay until he recovers… When deep gratitude from grey eyes responded to her offer, it dawned on Hermione that the wizard is really no longer the one she knew at Hogwarts…. That this young man is is as damaged as her by the war— who had learned the gravity of it, and paid for his faults and shortcomings…

Then after they've completed the third ritual, with more than half an hour of trying not to stare at the angry 'mud blood' carving on Malfoy's arm, Hermione could not stop herself when she started to ask questions that plagued her since Malfoy's first visit…

"How do you have your mother's knife with you…?

At Draco's expression, Hermione understood that he was not surprised to get such question from her… that he was even expecting the inquiry… Hermione features demanded him to give a straight answer… She even issued another question.

"And where did you get the rare potion ingredients?"

Since they were eleven, Draco had been slapping everyone at Hogwarts of his family's wealth and he could surely afford the expensive ingredients. Except that is no longer the case. While him and his mother had been spared from Azkaban, (but not Lucius), the Wizengamot had sequestered their entire wealth. That for a determined period, they do not have access to their old belongings and money, a sort of a Ministry leash on them, as they move forward with their lives and contribute in re-building their society…

For a moment, Hermione wondered how the mother and son are fending for themselves. But she remembered as well that they are not Slytherins just for their blood status but also for their resourceful characteristics. And although Draco Malfoy is no longer wearing immaculate and expensive clothes, she can see that it did not deter him from still appearing refined.

"What are the answers?" Hermione demanded with gravity.

"You already know the answers..." Draco rebutted with conviction.

Hermione heard his response and she knew that Draco spoke the truth. Indeed, she could deduce the answers but frankly she wanted to hear them explicitly. Why...? She can't understand herself… Or maybe she does, but feared for the implications in case she had them all wrong…

"Yes, I'll give you the confirmation… They were in fact from the Headmistress…"

Hermione guided her countenance into a blank one… but she could not help her mind from bursting with more questions… nor her heart from tightening at the substantiation of what Minerva had done— for her.

Once again, she had discovered that the woman operated to make things happen for her… This time to heal her **scar** … The **scar** that had not stopped screaming at her to find a way to get it healed… To find how to be free from Bellatrix's mark...

"How the Headmistress knew about my mother's knife— I didn't even know my mother has one. Unlike Bellatrix, my mother said she was never fond of knives that she even forgot she has one... Let alone remember where she kept it… So if there is a need for you to know how, you would have to ask the Headmistress about it…"

Hermione heard his unspoken words that he did not, and would not ask for an explanation from one Minerva McGonagall about the woman's knowledge of her mother's knife… More so how the woman obtained the said knife…

"And as you have guessed, all the ingredients are from the Headmistress. I have no doubt that no matter how rare half of them are— she had no problem securing them, including the ancient volume for the instructions. I supposed, she simply made a trip to her personal storage and private library at the McGonagall Manor."

Hermione hid her surprise upon hearing the factual tone that Malfoy used when he mentioned McGonagall's Manor… Whether deliberate or not, she knew that Hogwarts is generally perceived as the woman's only home. She never found out about the Manor despite tons of reading she did about the woman. And if not for that fateful night, she'd probably still be ignorant of it... And yet, her brain quickly grasped that Draco is from an old wizarding family, and surely they at least know of McGonagall's family, even if Minerva is the last of her name during the last three decades.

She can also see how he was watching and measuring her reaction… for the validation he imparted with her— of Minerva McGonagall's role at their current stage… But Hermione would not let the wizard collect anything from her. She took a page from Minerva and brought up her walls…

Draco gave her a small nod, and Hermione had to give it to the Slytherin for his quick comprehension, and the unmistakable respect he gave her… But then the wizard issued a question of his own…

"May I inquire what the Headmistress wrote?"

Hermione knew that he was referring to that note from Minerva. The one that served him entry pass during his first call… She assumed that he expected to get any clue with his own assessment of the braiding situation where he found himself with her and the headmistress. She made calculations on whatever implications it may bring, and when she didn't find anything damning, she conceded on this one…

"To give you five minutes before I hex you out." Hermione responded and she found herself giving him a small genuine smile.

"You gave me three minutes." Draco responded, also with a small genuine smile of his own. And then his face turned solemn and uttered, "If we were switched, I would not have given you any, not even one minute… So, thank you Ms. Granger."

"Please… Just— Hermione…" She offered. And she was extremely aware of the deeper subscription she just handed… "And thank you too Draco." She gestured to the fading **scar** on his arm as the final 'one-hour' comes to its expiration… And at that moment, she felt the liberation— and knew that she just have to endure another 17 weeks before the one on her arm becomes fully healed…

Hermione felt Minerva kissed her arm again. This pulled her back from her recollection of the entire chronicle… of how her **scar** came to be now healing… The lid on her emotions cracked an opening… She felt her heart gripped with the awareness that the woman presently clutching to her body is the one who made moves to deliver three impossible requirements… at her door… for her…

And yet the damn woman would not move to be with her… really be with her… And how the damn woman would not accept her love…

"Are you truly relieved?" Minerva murmured under her chin and she took hold of her emotions before she answered…

"Not just relieved… But very happy… Thank you Minerva."

"Draco is the—"

"I know…" Hermione interrupted Minerva for she will not accept the woman's entire dismissal of her own hand on healing her mud blood **scar** … "But lets not negate what you've done… Really, thank you Minerva." Hermione asserted her words of gratitude. And she could not help herself from kissing Minerva's crown and hugged the woman tighter…

"It took me quite sometime to locate the knife…" Minerva murmured again after another long interval.

Hermione was stunned at Minerva's concession… From such nugget of information, she heard the message behind it; Minerva went her ways to find it for her… **For her** …

This tempted her to let infinitesimal fire of hope start in her heart— that Minerva possibly loves her back. But two years of 'being and not being with Minerva' had taught her to give full regard on safeguarding her heart… And her impeccable mind supplemented this; it prompted images of emerald eyes brimful of fright after her daft declaration of love… She internally sighed and re-focused on what the woman just said… about the knife…

"How did you know there is such a knife?" Hermione heard herself asked before she realised what she just issued.

Minerva remained quiet again and Hermione thought that she would not get answer. That the woman closed the matter... especially after the woman issued a very deep sigh.

"Bellatrix told me."

Hermione was absolutely floored with the answer…

"A death-eater told you that her fucking knife that she used in carving 'mud blood' into my arm has a sister?"

"Back up Hermione… You know very well that what you've just said entirely made no sense…"

Minerva spoke into Hermione's chest with indignant tone but the woman softened the impact by tightening her hold on her… And then she also felt a soft kiss placed on her chest by thin lips.

Hermione wanted to retort with equal indignation but she let her brain function and it told her that Minerva is right… that truly what she had indicted was quite idiotic…

"I'm sorry…" Hermione apologised and kissed Minerva's crown in contrition before she asked, "How do you know to not look for Bellatrix' knife in the first place?"

Hermione felt Minerva nodded in acceptance of her apology and she waited patiently for the narrative…

"The night before Hogwarts opened after the war, Harry came to visit… It was then he recounted to me your capture, your escape and Dobby's death… including him destroying Bellatrix knife in his anger… And how you think he doesn't know about your **scar** because you were protecting him from blaming himself for it… And how he desperately wanted to atone for it but he knew that he would only make it worse for you if he say something…"

Hermione absorbed the information and she felt the constrictions of her heart. What Minerva said was true; she wanted to protect Harry for another undeserved guilt. But she rationalized that it mattered little for she and Harry had already given it a closure when her **scar** started healing… She looped back to the real discussion on hand, as several questions began burning inside her…

"When did Bellatrix told you about Narcissa's knife?"

Another sigh… And a longer pause…

"A 15-year-old Bellatrix Black told me…"

_A 15-year-old Bellatrix Black_ … Hermione heard another voice in her head of such similar phrase and she had to bit her lower lip to keep herself from commenting… But she could already feel a roping feeling in her guts of the implications of such phrase from two people... But she ordered herself to set it aside for the mean time, she wanted to give her full attention to what the woman is currently divulging and ensure not to miss anything… including those that will be unspoken...

"Just a week or so into a new school term, I found fifth-year student Bellatrix Black in one of the isolated bathroom at way past curfew. She was trying to stop the bleeding of her hand—"

"—cut by her very own knife…" Hermione interjected before she realised what she had said.

"Yes. I can't remember why I didn't send her to Poppy or to Horace. Maybe I didn't want to disrupt either one so late in the night. Or maybe I deemed that I could handle it. And I did. I healed her cut, confiscated her knife, sent her to bed and gave her a week of detention with me. I had every intention to make her go through several readings about consequences of dangerous items from heedlessness."

Despite the current topic, Hermione had to smile at seeing in her mind of the familiar Professor McGonagall who they all associated with upstanding conduct. But her mind also conjured another picture, of the same professor but more than three decades younger. Was the woman already aware of her unusual magical aging nature— that she's aging at half of half the normal phase? At any rate, the woman was surely more beautiful, and not to mention with soul undamaged by a second and third war... Such a wonder of who Minerva McGonagall was at that time...

"On the first night of her detention, I remember that she showed up quite early at my office and that surprised me. Students are never eager to show up at detention… Plus she—"

Minerva paused, and shifted from her position. Somehow, whenever they are in bed, Hermione had learned how to read the intent behind Minerva's motions. The woman sought a tighter hold… because she needed more comfort… because she would impart something of grave significance or implication… Either way, Hermione would give Minerva whatever she needs… She shifted to accommodate the woman in her arms, and she was spot-on as Minerva continued with her account…

"When Bellatrix showed up at my office, she brought tons of chocolates and one beautiful quill… She said they are gifts in appreciation for saving her from bleeding to death. I was half amused at her dramatics. And half insulted for the obvious bribe. But then, I know the Blacks are afflicted with the wrong notion of gift giving and their proclivity to flaunt their wealth. So after I declined her gifts, I gave her a lecture about the meaning of true gratitude and generosity and the vulnerability that it can invoke when tangled with exploitative people."

Again, Minerva paused and sighed… And buried herself further into her embrace… And Hermione let her…

"I told her that the only thank I want from her is a promise that she will refrain from romping with hazardous items… I told her that she could only have her knife back when she goes home for the school break and she can't bring it again. She didn't object and gave me the promise I asked. Then she even added a promise, that she'll work for an 'O' mark in Transfiguration. And at the end of that detention, she told me that she was glad that both her sisters did not bring their knives so they wouldn't cut themselves… Apparently, Cygnus Black's concept of appropriate gifts to his three very young daughters is a set of identical knives, of which were laced with dark magic…"

Hermione's mind is in uproar with a puzzle she just figured out… Of pieces locking into its places that gave her quite an understanding of something grave... And she could not stop herself from diving back into another recollection…

On the very last time that Draco visited her for the last ritual, as he was about to step out of her flat, he paused and turned back…

"Hermione… I'd like to tell you a story, if you will permit me… Something my mother recently shared with me…"

Hermione simply nodded, truthfully it poked her curiosity… Then Malfoy set his grey eyes on her intensely before he started his story…

"Once upon a time, **_a 15-year-old Bellatrix Black_** , still untainted by darkness… fell in love…"

Hermione found herself torn between wanting to hear the rest of Draco's story and shoving the wizard out of her flat… But she braved it and continued to hold grey eyes and let him proceed…

"But the person Bellatrix fell in love with had sat her down and gently rejected her… Told her that someday, someone would love Bellatrix more than she could conceive… Stubborn Black as she is, she rejected the rejection and started working on proving her love for this person. She devoted many hours to enhance her skills to impress this person, and busied herself making plans to win the love of this person… Well, you've met Sirius Black, that should give you the idea of how the Blacks are with the their over-the-top demonstrations… And mother said, Bellatrix was much in love that she was pulling the moon and the stars for the person she fell for… "

Hermione had to agree at Draco's accurate depiction of Sirius Black and his general extravagance… And bizarrely, it was not hard for her to think of Bellatrix as passionate as such...

"But one holiday break; my grandmother tied her to the Lestrange for a marriage… She pleaded that she loves another and plans to be with this person after she graduates Hogwarts… Of course she's a Black and that would not do, or she'd be disowned… Still hopeful, she pleaded again to the person she is in love with to give her a chance, to accept her love. But this person was adamant in turning her down, even told her that she might find the love and happiness with Lestrange…"

Draco paused and took a deep breath and Hermione was surprise to see raw sadness in his grey eyes…

"My mother said that her elder sister changed after that… That the dead finality of the rejection from the person she loves with all her heart had inflicted her with a scar that never healed until her death— the **scar** of never believing in love again…"

**_Scar of never believing in love again…_ **

Hermione felt the rumble inside her as she held her gaze against intense and sad grey eyes, of which the burning seemed to want to seep into her for something...

"And difficult to imagine now— and far from the death-eater that she had become, Bellatrix once truly believed in love… That she was in love with someone..."

**_Bellatrix in love..._ **

"And that someone that _15-year-old Bellatrix Black_ was thoroughly in love with— is none other but her Transfiguration Professor… The one we refer today as the venerated Headmistress Minerva McGonagall…"

* * *

**End of Chapter | Year 2000**

**Old Scar**

* * *

_Handful of pieces from Minerva's past... How will this matter to Hermione? Should it?_

* * *

* * *

AN:

Still borrowing from JK Rowling.

Thank you for still reading!


	23. New Scar

**Year 2000 | 3rd Seventh of May**

**Continuation**

* * *

" _And difficult to imagine now— and far from the death-eater that she had become, Bellatrix once truly believed in love... That she was in love with someone…"_

_Bellatrix in love…_

" _And that someone whom 15-year old Bellatrix Black was thoroughly in love with— is none other but her Transfiguration Professor… The one we refer today as the venerated Headmistress Minerva McGonagall…"_

* * *

The entire labyrinth that had been unveiled to Hermione is plain incredulous and for the last ten minutes, she was incapable of say anything after Minerva finished her account. Without a doubt, the newly handed pieces are intertwining with the ones she had learned from Draco several weeks ago. The joint segments are reeling inside Hermione's head for contemplation she should not call upon, and yet the gyrating force in her heart had seemed to have jumpstarted…

_Bellatrix in love..._

_In love with her Transfiguration Professor…_

_Thoroughly in love with Minerva McGonagall…_

Weaving and colliding with—

_I found fifth-year student Bellatrix Black trying to stop the bleeding of her hand…_

_I healed her cut and gave her a week of detention with me..._

_Bellatrix showed up tons of chocolates and one beautiful quill…_

Hermione does not have to be the 'Brightest Witch of her age' for her to deduce when, where or even how one Bellatrix Black had fallen into captivation with one Minerva McGonagall. That the pilot episode of such story was just accounted to her, although unbeknownst— by the woman herself…

She could not stop her mind from envisioning how Minerva tended the bleeding hand of Bellatrix with disapproving countenance for the heedlessness, but also mixed with the natural gentleness that would slipped on the Professor's face— of a young and beautiful Professor… And of how in that moment, the integrated tenderness from Minerva would certainly win the heart of the untainted 15-year old Slytherin... Or if not that moment, _surely_ before that first detention ended.

In all probability, Minerva had stunned Bellatrix into wonder with her chastisement laced of benevolence after she rejected the young witch's appreciation slash bribe slash wooing gifts.

Furthermore, when the older woman expressed that others may take advantage of her generosity, it must have punched a vast hole in Bellatrix's orientation of 'buying' and 'paying off' people as the common course of actions. It may never have occurred to Bellatrix the notion of her own vulnerability to be exploited, because in her mind, the giving (bribing) was always about gaining the upper hand over someone. Therefore, Minerva's natural and unquestionable genuine concern rattled something inside the impressionable young Slytherin.

Hermione found herself questioning life of how it can be this much paradoxical in its entanglement of people's choices, at such presented circumstances and provided chances… Of all the Slytherins… Of all the Hogwarts Professors… Of all the Death-Eaters who could've tortured her physically and verbally… And then of all the witches Bellatrix had fallen in love with… Of all the witches Hermione had fallen in love with…

_Fucking interconnecting hell._

Minerva did not say anything more about Bellatrix's graduation and marriage to Lestrange, but with a brief mental consideration of its timeline, Hermione could simply infer that Bellatrix Black became Bellatrix Lestrange immediately after her education at Hogwarts, and signed-up as death eater thereafter. A curious thing on how much of the Slytherin's decision to wear the dark mark was derived from her family alliance or because of personal insurgence…

Even more curious— the decisions made by the two witches pertinent to the most fundamental battle called 'light versus darkness'. It was not lost on Hermione of how adult Bellatrix had taken exactly the same spot but of the opposite side where Minerva had stood. That one had served deputy to Voldemort and the latter to Dumbledore, with the same unwavering loyalty to their leader and unfailingly devotion to their cause.

To make the interconnectedness more damning, Hermione could not ignore the bloody parallelisms on the physical characteristics between her and the mad death-eater. Sure, Azkaban had made Bellatrix's appearance almost skull like and as such their similarities cannot be easily identified. She would not have known herself if compared with that angry and cruel image of Bellatrix. Plus, the more than two decades gap between her arrival and Bellatrix's departure at Hogwarts was more than enough for anyone to not draw the parity. Bur fate intervened, via one photo during her stay at Grimmauld…

Hermione mentally dived further, back to that day; it was months before the full onslaught of the war when Sirius was gathering to get rid of his family mementos. She had picked up a photo out of curiosity, but what she got was more than what she was prepared for…

" _I think I was 7 or 8 years old that time… You know, when I did not know yet that I ought to be ashamed of this family…"_

_Hermione heard Sirius's jesting words, and also heard his anger mixed with lonesomeness… For a moment, they both stared at the photo in silence, but as her brown eyes widened at something peculiar, Harry's godfather pointed at the very same thing, or rather at a person that got her disconcerted— at one grinning teenager girl._

" _Hmm, how come you are in our family photo Hermione?"_

_Sirius voiced out what she had started seeing and this got her to stare more intensely at the photo. She attempted to not give credence to the glaring physical likeness between herself and that girl, who turned out to be Bellatrix Black at 15 or 16 years old. That except for Hermione's lighter brown hair, their eyes, nose, jaws, cheeks, lips, and even their skin— have such bizarre resemblance that had given her cold uneasiness._

" _But I reckon you are way more beautiful…" The marauder grinned at her and told her more of unwanted 'similarities' she has with Bellatrix. "You know Hermione, they said my cousin was quite the brilliant student at Hogwarts. I'm sure not as brilliant as you, but yeah, they said she was excelling in school."_

" _Obviously not really brilliant, to not know not to follow you know who…" Hermione retorted with a grin to cover her unease._

" _Yeah, what a waste…" Sirius said in unmistakable tone of disappointment, and then typically turned back into grinning when he continued, "And Hermione, that's why you are a bloody Gryffindor! You are not only brilliant to know, but very brave to call out what it is."_

" _But Gryffindors are known for not properly thinking first?" Hermione teased Sirius._

" _True young lady, but it is because our courage leads us to the right path…" Sirius responded in a smirk._

" _Right. But not before such courage causing several mishaps on the way to the right path!" Hermione countered._

_Sirius laughed and expressed how he was very much convinced that Harry is so lucky to have her in Gryffindor house and not lost her to Ravenclaw given her undeniable wit. Then without warning, Sirius donned a distant look as he gave her another gateway towards unasked piece of information about Bellatrix._

" _You know, I wasn't really the first Black who belonged to Gryffindor House?"_

" _What do you mean?" Hermione asked, even though her quick brain had deduced what Sirius was about to reveal to her._

" _When I got sorted to Gryffindor house, obviously it resulted into massive castigation from my family. When I argued that it was the bloody sorting hats' doing, they told me that Bella was considered to Gryffindor by that thing as well. She of course told it to put her to Slytherin where her family belongs. I guess, she wasn't really a Gryffindor for not having the courage to dissatisfy our family…"_

_Hermione could not believe such revelation and could not really say anything in response. Then Sirius went on gathering her family memorabilia for destruction and left her with her thoughts._

_She silently recalled Harry's story of what Dumbledore had told him about our choices that define us, not our house that we belong to. And strangely, she felt that Bellatrix actually meant that she needed not to go to Gryffindor to say that she's brave. Like how she knew she needed not to go to Ravenclaw to prove her intelligence…_

_She internally sighed and chose to shelve the matter. But not before her mind prompted a supposition of what would have happened if Bellatrix had belonged to the house where one Minerva McGonagall is the head… Like how she knew that such fact is shaping her life in a way she was ill equipped to confront its substance at that time._

The recalled supposition from the memory was thought long before the war fully unfolded and ended, before Sirius had died, before so many things… And now, after so many things that had happened, and after she just learned critical details from Draco and Minerva of which concerned one Bellatrix, the same supposition could not be more important in the overall scheme of what could have been…? For Bellatrix… For Minerva… For her…

Minerva stirred in her arms and placed a light kiss on her chest again. It pulled her back into here and now, and of how the same woman is still naked just as she is, after their coupling indulgence… And somehow it also prompted Hermione to dive into deeper reflection of the knotted connection of herself with the dark witch— Bellatrix who had scarred her arm with _mud blood_ …

Narcissa told Draco that Bellatrix carried a scar that never healed, _the scar of never believing in love again_ … And with a claim of how it was singularly caused by the rejection she received from the very same emerald-eyed woman presently snuggled under her chin— Minerva… Of how Bellatrix did everything she can to win Minerva's love… Of how she pleaded Minerva to accept her love… And of how Minerva rejected it… Rejected Bellatrix's love…

_**Like how Minerva is rejecting your love Hermione— and thus scarring you now…** _

The last thought led a massive attack of wretchedness inside Hermione and she was hurdled into an alarming cramping of her heart. She wanted to shove the thought into the farthest pit. But the ugly truth is forcing its way for acknowledgement and for more cruel suppositions…

_One of these days, Minerva will_ _**gently** _ _sit you down and tell you she doesn't want you anymore… Not even for annual shag… She'll simply regard you as Ms. Granger, and you'd be barred with walls after walls, and more walls…_

_And that would be the deepest_ _**SCAR** _ _on you…_

_One that would NEVER EVER heal…_

Hermione's lid on her emotions had burst open and brought her into unwanted confrontation… Her mind replayed Minerva's frightened emeralds after her confession of 'I love you Minerva' and the apparent decision of the woman to ignore it… And then laced the episode with an imaginary one of how Bellatrix probably got down on her knees for Minerva's love… And maybe Draco's statement, 'gently sat her down' meant Minerva simply ignored the Sytherin and barred her with her damnable walls… Hermione shut her eyes tightly in an effort to gather and pull back her thoughts, but it was too late…

"Did Bellatrix got 'Outstanding' mark?"

The question was out before it dawned on Hermione of what she had asked. And she must have truly unscrewed her filter when she even made a follow through…

"Did Bellatrix manage to uphold her promise to work and achieve Outstanding' in Transfiguration?"

"It doesn't matter."

She heard Minerva's response accompanied with unconcealed exasperated sigh. Maddeningly, it brought out a certain cruelty in Hermione and a sharp taunt slipped past her lips…

"Come on, did the Slytherin Miss Black thrived in your NEWT level class— dear Professor?"

Hermione felt the woman stiffened in her arms. But she seemed to have lost her mind from the severe insecurity that started suffocating her. With full consciousness of her palpable disdain, she let go of words that will indubitably underline her initial assaults.

"No doubt Bellatrix had the skills. Otherwise, Voldemort would not take the vacated mentor post to continue developing her skills... Which came tremendously handy in torturing and killing people."

Hermione was horrified with what she had voiced out, but she could not stop herself from letting out waves of viciousness she did not know she is capable of…

"Did you know that Bellatrix not only sampled me with _crucio_ again and again, that she also passed down a lesson to Harry on how to cast a proper one? I supposed she had become _the professor_ that night to us, albeit the subject was dark magic. Imagine had she been the one sent by Voldemort to Hogwarts instead of the Carrows— you would've been fellow Professors? Do you think you could have gotten close as colleagues?"

"Hermione, do listen to yourself and hear your own words right now…"

The soft but obvious restless words came out of Minerva as the woman rolled away from her, started summoning her clothes, while getting off the bed.

"You're leaving?"

Hermione heard her nasty accusing tone but the thundering in her throbbing heart had her faculties for anything else but ferocity. And when Minerva did not immediately respond, and carried on dressing with clear intent to depart, it seemed to cut the last of Hermione's restraints.

"Was afternoon fuck too early for you…?" Hermione raised her voice, and she knew it was now dripping with malevolence at each syllable. Minerva flinched but she ignored it.

"…Too early you can't even wait for nightfall when I am dead asleep before you escape?"

"Hermione, it is not—"

"Oh is it because you fucking reached your quota today when you came inside me?"

"Hermione—"

"What if I want to fuck more? Do I get an encore later tonight? Do we sneak back here?"

"I am going back to Hogwarts when clearly you—"

"So I guess I need to find it elsewhere because THE HEADMISTRESS will be now unavailable—"

"Hermione—"

"—UNAVAILABLE to fuck…! And for fuck's sake, I suggest next year, the headmistress and the Golden Brain should just skip the fucking commemoration and all its pretense and go straight here TO FUCK! After all, this is turning out as our annual fuck? Our commemorative shag…? Right?"

Minerva flinched again and this time Hermione grimaced at her own words but the fear she had harbored for the last two years is making its ugly vengeance with twisted pronouncements. And at this point, she too had gotten up and started to violently put her clothes on as she continued with her offense.

"Maybe you could _mentor_ me on how to manage fucking people around on such precise schedule, share your _systematic rendezvous_! I can see that the revered Transfiguration Master has mastered as well on how to fuck around without a single strand of scandal. I, on the other hand is limited to handful of fucks because really, I have yet to learn how to do it like you do, so that my escapades will not appear in tomorrow's news."

Hermione knew that she has just resorted to flat-out lying. Of course, she never fucked around, and truthfully she would never. She can't even imagine herself looking at anyone that way, let alone actually sleep with some one else… It was and still is just Minerva…

And yet, she just implied that she did, that she does fuck around… But the falsehood is basically her attempt to cover the burning pain in her heart… To stop the thoughts running rampant in her mind… _That she is Minerva's second go affair with an enamored, susceptible (former) student…? Or that she is a twisted deliverance from what happened to Bellatrix…?'_

"What are you really saying Hermione?" asked Minerva that just interrupted Hermione's next assault.

Hermione paused and realized that Minerva's issued questions just metaphorically led them both to a junction… Green eyes entirely encased with impregnable walls held her brown eyes… Hermione followed suit and brought out her own walls…

"What are you really saying Hermione?" repeated Minerva after one long stretch of silence in a damn tone that no one could ever decipher its intended meaning… It thoroughly reminded Hermione of how veteran the woman is when smacked in a maddening situation. And how she would never match Minerva's self-sufficiency and control…

Hermione knew she could not make herself plainly answer Minerva's question… In its place, and not for the first time, Hermione felt the surge of temptation to beg for Minerva's love. The overwhelming force wanted her to get down on her knees and say—

' _Please Minerva, tell me you got my mud blood scar healed because you care for me… Because you love me, or at least could love me… And not because you feel guilty for what another witch that you have loved did to me… Or that you can't stand being with me reminding you that I am a mud blood… Please, please tell me you want me as I am… That we could be_ _ **more than**_ _what we have resulted the last two years— that we are not just annual fuck mates…"_

Frightened to the core to tell Minerva of what she really wants to say, and yet desperately needed Minerva's response to them— of assuring ones she hopelessly sheltered in her heart to receive from the woman she loves above all… She needed to know that they could afford to be more… And that Minerva wants to afford more…

But with barricaded emerald eyes holding her brown ones against such strong fortress, Hermione's Gryffindor courage completely abandoned her. She let her Ravenclaw brain take over and it got hold of self-preservation that propelled her default reaction— to escape…

"I can't do this anymore."

Hermione murmured and she did not wait a moment longer for Minerva's response. In a split second, she _accio'd_ her remaining stuff as she ran out of her bedroom, barged down the stairs and exited the house back door without looking back.

At the backyard, she hastily fixed herself before all together got out to the street on foot. She did not attempt to _disapparate_ in her condition to just be safe from _splinching_. She can't have a repeat episode of needing Harry to save her, besides he would surely demand a more truthful account of its cause, which she still can't supply him.

She forced herself to take one step after another, away from her house, cross-cutting in between yards that she had known since she was a young girl and unaware of the entire wizarding world…

For a good while, she kept on walking even without a destination in mind. For her thoughts are loaded of what just happened… And her heart is still thundering from the emotional muddle of loving Minerva, of wanting Minerva, of needing Minerva… And the pain from the captivity of it…

Someone bumped her or she bumped at someone, and when she looked up to apologize, a muggle man beat her with "I'm sorry, are you okay? I'm trying to be on time to my wife's birthday dinner…"

Dinner.

It reminded Hermione of the dinner at the Burrow that she should be attending right now… She groaned as it is the last place she wants to be at her present state. But she knew that if she will not show up at all, Harry and Ron would immediately be at her flat, checking on her. A prodding from them, more so a dialogue with them in a confined setting is truly not what she could handle. Briefly, she considered staying away from the Burrow and her flat to avoid them and avoid everything, but her conscience won't allow her knowing that both her best friends would be extremely worried about her.

Damn her best friends. Their taking care of her is actually her taking care of them. And at times, she detests it so much… No, that is untrue… She knows that to detest the concern of her best friends is plain ridiculous. She detests herself actually… For ever putting herself into conflicting position and grinding herself in it in silence…

The Burrow's door opened just before Hermione's knuckle touched the surface and was greeted by Audrey. She pasted a smile on her face and returned the greeting when she stepped into the foyer.

"I'm actually on my way to use the loo when I've notice you from the window. We just sat down at the table, so hang your coat and go right ahead." Audrey told her as the witch left her and continued her way to the bathroom.

Hermione did as told, took a deep breath and reinforced her pasted smile before she entered the room where everyone was indeed seated for dinner. But within two seconds of her appearance, and before she could really announce herself, she heard Molly Weasley gasped, "Hermione dear!"

Instinctively, it took Hermione's attention and she directed her gaze towards the matriarch. The usual over-zealous expression on Mrs. Weasley whenever she sees her is notably absent. Instead she found an almost hunted one in it.

"Hello Molly. Hello everyone..." she cautiously greeted with a small wave. Strangely, when others turned to look at her as she did so, she noticed that they suddenly adapted a similar expression to the one that Molly has.

"I'm sorry I'm late. I got sidetracked and forgot the time." Hermione managed to get out the obfuscation as she carried on greeting the lot, all the while figuring out the odd sense at the Burrow's dinning table.

And not a second later, Harry implanted himself overly close to her to give her a kiss in greeting. Also, her best friend whispered to her, "Mione your arm…"

It took Hermione a second to understand what Harry just said. And then the reactions of the people in the room clicked inside her head. She had overlooked to cast a concealing charm on her _mud blood scar_. Of course when she took off her coat, given she's wearing a short-sleeved top, the scar had become on display.

"You mean my 'mud blood' scar?" She didn't know what possessed her but then and there she elected to bring the matter front and center. "Yeah, it's not that angry anymore…" she said and even raised her arm like it was the most casual matter in the world to unveil.

"Do you want us to kill whoever did that to you?" asked George calmly but with most grievous intent.

"Oh, your mother already did. It was Bellatrix. This was the mad witch's grand masterpiece during our capture at the Malfoy's manor. She wanted me to know how worthless my mud blood life is and suffer every second of it before I supposed, kill me…"

An eerie silence descendent at the house of the Burrow and vaguely she remembered that the house may reside a poor family, but their name is a pureblood and hearing 'mud blood' is every abominable to them as she sees it in her arm.

"You know you are not worthless Hermione." Said Ginny with strong conviction. "And that scar proved what you have overcome. That you have beaten evil."

"Oh, I know Gin. Still, I wanted it gone for it was imprisoning me at times."

"I don't understand, I thought you had it healed even before the war ended?" Asked Ron with apparent confusion.

"I couldn't. Not until Draco Malfoy carved himself thrice for the ritual that we underwent to lift the curse. I didn't even think I could get it healed because the ritual needed impossible requisites to counter the personal curse by Bellatrix… When I say impossible, they were really impossible to procure, except the venerated Headmistress sponsored them. And what is impossible to a witch like her? Right?"

"Malfoy carved himself?" Asked Ron with obvious shock this time.

"Headmistress McGonagall provided you the requisites?" Asked Percy almost at the same time.

"Yes, the ritual needed a relative of the offender and Draco helped me. And yes, the Headmistress… The one and only one… She made the impossible requirements possible and had them delivered at my door..." she responded to both Ron and Percy.

She told Harry a month ago about her healing scar… to sort of release him from the guilt that he had taken upon because of it. But she never went into details and she can see how he is collecting them now from what she just imparted…

Hermione's brain warned her to be careful with her words lest be read by her olive eyed best friend, especially in conjunction with the mentioned venerated witch, whom he is having a very, very tight familial relationship these days. However, Hermione's revolting heart from the **new scar** carving in her led her to yammer some more.

"The Headmistress is no doubt working on the clock since the war ended… With her ardent intent to fix every damaged aspect, every damaged person by the war."

As she said those words, Hermione deliberately stared at George who unmistakably took a deep breath. Vaguely she also heard Harry did the same thing… for amongst the present in the lot, both are the ones who could very much relate to what she just stated.

Actually, if there is one very well defined matter to Hermione, it is the fact that Minerva Isobel McGonagall exists in the lives of everyone and almost ever creature of their kind. For some it may be on individual relevance, but for the rest, undoubtedly, it is on a grand scheme of things. The woman had become the chief entity probably because Dumbledore got himself killed and threw the part he vacated to Minerva. And if Hermione would be so honest with herself, she knew she is being selfish to want, and to need the woman for herself. And very foolish to even think so…

Hermione inwardly sighed as rage and rejection she earlier felt during her row with Minerva are altogether joined by desolation. She felt her descend to the pit with alarmingly intensity… wherein she has no idea how bottom is the rock bottom of her direction…

"So, it would completely heal? You're alright Hermione?" Charlie asked her and she nodded at him.

"Yes. It's just a scar… And after giving me a nightmare since that day, it's finally healing… And really, I ought to be thankful because Dobby gave us the escape, that sadly cost his life, but as you know, saved ours…"

_And saved me from the promised brutality whispered to my face by one evil woman._

Hermione withheld the last one. But things have started to come back to her and they are landing in its places, whereas at that time she heard them, she could not really understand. The pain from _crucio_ had short-circuited her brain from comprehending Bellatrix blabbering. Thereafter, she had buried every insult in order to escape them. But with today's affair and the inevitable **new scar** carving into her heart, they were all released from the depths of denials and confinements. Bellatrix's voice in her head is making her grasp everything with clear vehemence…

" _My nephew said that you're pretty smart for a mud blood... smart for a Gryffindor… I reckon you must be her favorite girl? Are you? Are you hers already? She likes intelligent ones I know! Oh, what a treat if that so…"_

" _My, my, I will reward myself with you… your young body looks yum… What a goody to play with… And darling, I want you awake for it… Then I'll send your dead body to her…"_

" _And she'll know… I'll make sure that she'll know that I've played with her smart mud blood Gryffindor."_

The 'She', and the 'Her' from Bellatrix's blabbering meant Minerva. Hermione buried those things, and the present recollection together with the comprehension is all the more digging the carving of the **new scar** in her heart…

"Dear, if I could bring Bellatrix to life, I would. Just to kill her all over again for you?" She heard Molly as the woman came near her and touched her shoulder and offered her a small smile.

Hermione decided that she had put the Burrow's occupants in such damp atmosphere for too long and they don't deserve it. She brought out Hermione Granger public persona that she has started wearing when she became Department Head. She let out a grin and told Molly, "The first was more than enough Molly… Now, what I would never get enough is your impeccable cooking. Shall we dig in? I can hear Ron's tummy complaining"

"Mione!" Ron protested while the rest had laughed. Then an unspoken unanimous agreement was struck that they are done with the topic of war damages.

Harry semi ushered Hermione towards a vacant chair. It was beside his and apparently saved for her. When everyone seemed to have settled back into focusing their attention to the food on the table and their own choosing of different topics, Hermione inwardly sighed in relief that her diversion was subscribed. But when she was helping herself with some potatoes, she felt olive eyes on her, and realized that one person has not completely bought her jovial dismissal. She wanted to ignore him but it would be fruitless.

"I'm okay." She faced Harry and softly told him. She even made sure to look at him directly in the eyes.

"Are you really?" Asked Harry as softly and only for her own ears.

Hermione nodded and pasted a smile on her face. "I am actually hungry." And turned back to serving herself and ignored the lingering look that she knew that Harry has on her.

Throughout several dishes served and cleared out, the table managed to steer themselves into so many subjects. George hosted majority of them when he talked about several original ideas they have for Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. Hermione tried her hardest to participate with the discussion as much as she could despite the turmoil going on inside her… Conjured images of Minerva and Bellatrix are thoroughly making her insane, but she gave everything in her to kept the lid on it…

At one point, her brain caught up on how she had been foolish to say the things she had shared earlier with the Burrows occupants... Granted that they were provoked by the exposure of her mud blood scar, she needed not pull it apart for an exhibition… _What a fucking idiot!_ She internally berated herself and berated some more when Harry asked her if she is truly okay for the nth time in the last two hours.

One Harry Potter had tightened his watch on her and did not let up for a second the moment Hermione unwisely gave them a disclosure of her mud blood scar. Clearly, she would have to deal with it— with him for the next few days. She loves Harry and appreciates so much the love and concern that he is giving her. But the truth is, that is adding up to her burden of loving Minerva…

After the war, she had seen how Harry had attached himself to Minerva and how it was really good for him… Admittedly, Hermione would have to describe it as an almost gift to witness them be closer each passing day, particularly knowing the immense struggles the two have conquered in their respective lives.

His best friend obviously treasures his developed familial relationship with the woman. Ginny once jested that Harry would if he could hyphen McGonagall to Potter and take the combined as his new family name. While many times she would feel enormously jealous of Harry, she's very much happy for him.

Except right now, Hermione wants to mangle Harry for the repetitive question, _'Are you okay Mione_? Sure, she is not truly okay and it did not help that she had temporary insanity when she arrived and made a show of her mud blood scar. But she already did a complete turn around, ensuring to be as engaging with everyone. For that she did not miss how George and Angelina have crossed the line from being friends to easing into something more. And how it was rubbing her unintentionally in the wrong way to be reminded that people are moving on with their lives while she seemed to be stuck at loving Minerva with inevitable tragic ending.

She kept her smile firmly pasted the entire dinner and laughed at the right time. She had brought out her full _Hermione-Granger-Golden-Brain-Rising-Witch_ persona to cover for earlier. But Harry won't leave her with his prolonged observation and overly concern…

When Molly and Audrey were heading to the kitchen to bring out more drinks, Hermione jumped at the opportunity to escape Harry's side and joined the women. Most unfortunately, Harry volunteered right after she did. And that she found herself alone with him in the kitchen eventually.

"Mione, what's wrong?" Harry stated without preamble after Molly and Audrey exited the kitchen door.

"Nothing is wrong Harry." Hermione responded with a smile, withholding her exasperation.

"Hermione Granger does not simply forget her concealing charms that she has done the last two years."

"Maybe Harry Potter is worrying too much…? Maybe I have decided to finally be liberated from the scar and moved on…?"

"You did not sound unburdened when you were talking about your scar?"

_Because a_ _**new scar** _ _is carving hard inside me, which in all likelihood to leave me disintegrated forever…_

Hermione screamed in her mind. She finally cancelled her pasted smile and seriously addressed her best friend's anxiety.

"Harry, leave this prodding."

"I'm sorry Mione. But I worry. I can't help but sense something is not right? And considering today—"

"No Harry. Today's commemoration did not bring me back to being lost."

"But something else did."

_Fuck._

"And I can read the same level of pain in your eyes that I have seen during the very first commemoration at the Hogwarts ground. Maybe it was or wasn't the same matter that had gotten you almost killed afterwards… But I told you that I knew I should not have left you on your own. So I won't tonight."

_Really fucking hell._

And Harry wasn't done.

"No matter how you have improved your acting skills, your public self, I can see the real you Hermione. On the run, we were together out there on our own for long days and nights and that made me qualified to call it when I see it."

Hermione gritted her teeth. Harry is stripping her down and she is not prepared to handle him— not at her current state.

"I am fine Harry."

"Hermione, please do not lie to me. Why won't you tell me the truth so I could help you?"

Hermione lost it and barked, "Harry, stop playing the hero! You cannot save everyone and everything!"

"Hermione! What the bloody hell?" Ron's shocked, loud, croaked voice penetrated Hermione's mind before she realized what she just slapped Harry with.

Apparently her red-haired best friend followed her and Harry and just witnessed her idiotic and cruel words— _Harry, stop playing the hero! You cannot save everyone and everything!_

"I'm sorry… I need to go…" Hermione mumbled and exited the kitchen.

Despite the hot swirling suffocation she is currently enslaved with, her brain registered the odd stillness of the dining room when she re-entered. She just knew that each person did hear the row amongst the 'Golden Trio'.

She went to Molly and Arthur, and eyes down casted, she gave her thanks for dinner and her lame excuse of not feeling well before hastily exited the Burrow. She needed to leave before she explodes further and torch this kind family. The guilt of what she had said to Harry is like a gun start and it released every single destructive thoughts and feelings in her.

"Hermione, wait."

Behind her, she heard Ron's running steps. His long stride made him reached her before she got to the required distance to apparate.

"I need to go Ron." Hermione clenched her jaw as she tried to get away from him.

"I'll take you where you want to go just don't apparate by yourself…"

"Why the hell not?"

Hermione exploded at what she had heard.

"Harry asked me not to let you."

"Not let me?"

Hermione exploded even more.

"He said about you hurting yourself again at your state."

"Bloody Harry."

"What the hell are you chewing Harry for? Was he right? He said that you splinched. When the bloody hell was that?"

At the mentioned of 'splinching', Hermione was assaulted of the memories of that splinch along with the wretched reason she splinced— Minerva. The damn woman's very first rejection...

Then two years passed, two top masteries achieved, Ministry's unprecedented promotion- they all represented nothing because right now, right this moment, she is still a pitiful in-love person… In love with someone who would not accept her love…

"Let me take you home just to ensure you're okay."

"What do you bloody mean to ensure I'm okay? Oh please… I may be blinded, gagged, wandless, bleeding or whatever state I may be, still I am better than you at almost everything. So never, belittle my power just because you are a pure-blood."

"Hermione, that's not what I meant—"

"Will you all you stop treating me like a fucking meager dislocated person in this world of yours?"

Hermione did stop to think about her assault, did not stop to let Ron respond. She focused on her cracking magic and grabbed his other best friend and disapparated.

"See… Without a doubt I am capable." Another assault that she issued once they landed in a deserted lot just behind her flat.

"Go back Ron. I do not need someone to sit me, I could bloody take care of myself." She pushed his dumbfounded best friend and did not look back as she headed to her flat.

"What the fuck I'm doing?" Hermione screamed as soon as she entered her place and barred her door with multiple charms.

As the first tears ran down Hermione's face, she slid down on her cold floor, and then it spelled out to her without warning—

That she is wrecking havoc in her wake as she breaks up from the idea of her and Minerva together…

That she has to break from the captivity of loving Minerva McGonagall…

That she is breaking her own heart…

* * *

**End of Chapter | Year 2000**

**New Scar**


	24. Blue-Eyed Strangers and Red-Haired Wizard

**Year 2000 | 3rd Seventh of May**

**Continuation**

* * *

_As the first tears ran down Hermione's face, she slid down on her cold floor, and then it spelled out to her without warning-_

_That she is wrecking havoc in her wake as she breaks up from the idea of her and Minerva together..._

_That she has to break from the captivity of loving Minerva McGonagall..._

_That she is breaking her own heart..._

* * *

After Hermione cried her heart out on her cold floor, she crawled to her bathroom and torched herself under a very hot shower to cover the burning pain in her heart as she cried some more. When she needed to remove herself from the scalding water, she buried herself under her sheets as the tears continued in earnest. Body curved into a tight ball, her mind paraded none other but images of her and Minerva making love from that very first time until the one they had earlier. But the treasured memories are proving to be heavy assaults against her disintegrated heart so she decided to escape furthermore, and headed to a muggle bar with every intention to get smashed.

Even though she never had more than a short glass of hard alcohol in her entire life, she had gotten a fine bottle of whisky and settled in one isolated booth. There, she took a swing after another as she attempts to numb the agony from the rejections and restrictions riddled in her heart for loving one Minerva McGonagall… And contemplated how she is very much fucked…

For one, she is certain that to 'un-love' the woman is much harder than getting herself to replace Kingsley Shacklebolt as head Minister. Or gaining elves their rights for compensation and encompassing liberty even though their general kind do not want to have any…

But to continue loving the woman is nothing but carving herself with deeper scar. Evidently, Minerva cannot afford to shed her role for more than a handful of moments— notwithstanding the complication if the woman even wanted to be with her... like really be with her in a 'whole-nine-yards' of being together…

Hermione took a deep sigh at how truly fucked she is… Shots after shots she glugged her whisky and ignored the burning line that cuts down her throat every time… Because she has decided that the one in her heart is way more excruciating…

Later when she was on her way to be obliterated, out of nowhere, a muggle man went to sit opposite her. Despite her inebriated state, Hermione can see that his blue eyes (as far as she could tell sans the alcohol blood shot level) had shed more tears than she had, at least for the night.

"Drinking your heart out? Than crying hah?"

The un-named blue-eyed man started. And Hermione was all out of fight to shoo him away that a nod was simpler.

"Do you have a git of a husband making you devout yourself to that fine bottle…? I have a whore of a wife who made me reconnect my love of wine after bottle after bottle."

Hermione mentally answered, _I have a disease named loving Minerva and attempting to cure myself… This bottle is where I begin... To numb the ache…_

The man did not mind that she did not say anything in response but merely took a shot after another, for he did the same, directly drinking from his own bottle of wine… Then blankly staring at one another, they drank some more in silent solidarity…

Then another blue-eyed stranger sat down across her, beside the first blue-eyed invader. This one though is completely sober. And completely worried, exasperated, and contrite for the intrusion… And this one is a she.

"Come on brother, let's not bother this lady."

"Oh no sis, I'm not bothering this gorgeous lady, we're sharing a bleakness… as we burn belief in the bloody idea of love… And hoping that at least the sky would still be blue tomorrow."

"Why you became a doctor was beyond me when you can spit such strings of words?"

"Why else? But followed your foot steps big sister."

Hermione kept on drinking as she sat back silently and watched such free entertainment dropped in front of her. At least an intermission from thinking about her own bleakness…

"Oh Lec, had you truly followed me, you wouldn't fall for that wife of yours..."

"Oh Lea, you mean like your insecure boyfriend who still has not grown spine to marry you? Is he still catching up with your achievements to even your status before he does? That would not happen sis. He doesn't have a tenth of your brilliance. You need another lover!"

_Damn she's straight but maybe it won't matter._

Hermione thought and she subsequently choked. Hermione could not tell if her congest was due to the burning acid of alcohol that went the wrong way, or the fact that her subconscious was already sizing up the woman to be taken home later and make Hermione forget about one Minerva McGonagall.

The blue-eyed woman, named Lea, quickly handed her a bottle of water and a clean napkin. And as she got through her choking she realized that the woman had transferred to her side and actually aided her in cleaning up her spill.

"I could tell that you're not used to drinking darling."

Hermione froze at the endearment. And to her horror, she felt hot tracks of fresh tears on her face, which the kind woman gently wiped without saying a word.

"I'm sorry, she— she would call me that." Hermione threw the explanation and drown a double shot. And shook her head wildly in attempt to disconnect with her apparent moment of brokenness.

"Oh darn, you play for our team!"

Moping words uttered by an equally drunk man brought Hermione a jolt of realization of how she just _outed_ herself to complete **blue eyed strangers** — to siblings called Lec and Lea… Who are both quite good-looking truth be told.

"Lec, shut-up."

"What? I was really hoping this gorgeous lady and I could find comfort later in bed."

"Lec, please—"

"I was thinking that your sister could comfort me actually…."

Hermione blurted before she could stop herself and owing to her drunken state, she pushed forward and drown the protest of her heart, the one screaming the name Minerva McGonagall.

"Yea, you know, you have semblance of her… Imposing height… I could tell of amazingly fit body… obvious smooth skin… delicious jaw and even your silky hair… except— your eyes."

"Oh, my eyesight is too poor from medical research over the years." Laughingly responded by Lea in an effort to deflect uneasiness.

Hermione shook her head once and then grinned, "While yours are intensely blue, like your brother's… Mi— hers are the most impossible emeralds… that turn into breath taking glassy ones when we make love… breath taking emeralds that have long imprisoned my body, my mind, my soul… my heart…"

"Why are you not losing your breath right now over these impossible emeralds…? Instead of attaching yourself with such bottle that you are almost done with darling?"

Hermione let out a sad smile upon hearing 'darling' once again, and at the fucked reality of her situation. Then she could not smother her laughter even if she had tried to when suddenly a loud snoring sound came out from Lec who had fallen into the land of oblivion on the table.

"Oh brother… We were due to leave many drinks ago but I could not make him go. And after I went to the loo, I found him here with you. I'll give him few minutes before I wake him up and drag him home. Can we drop you home?"

"Do you want to take me home? Comfort me?" Hermione wickedly countered even if everything within her just protested at what she had insinuated.

Hermione watched blue eyes briefly darted to the snoring brother before they returned and focused on hers. She was caught by surprise of the intensity turned on her that she covered her irresolute feeling by drowning another shot, and the sharp strike in her head reminded her that she definitely had too many already…

And then a thumb lightly wiped the corner of her lips and all it brought Hermione is the most grievous longing of Minerva's touch.

"I wonder if your intoxication has blinded you from seeing the glaring age difference between us, of perhaps a more than a decade gap?"

Hermione snorted, "Certainly less than the difference between me and Mi— her… Believe me…"

"I see…"

"So, are you taking me home? Make me forget her? At least for tonight?" Hermione asked again as the thumping of heart revolted that her body actually swayed away a little.

Once again, blue eyes shot a look at a snoring brother before a hand palmed her cheek and gently demanded her entire attention.

"Darling, if I am not in a relationship, I would definitely bring you home tonight... You are very beautiful. Obviously a wonderful person for not tossing Lec when he intruded your party for one… Not to mention my own intrusion… I think… I would even make you breakfast in bed and keep you there indefinitely… But here is my question— do you really want to forget her?"

The question indeed.

Even Hermione's alcohol muddled brain told her that no sane person would burst out to complete stranger. But the damn blue-eyed woman's caring gesture and her posted question finally pierced the mark that unlatched her emotions. She found herself enveloped in an embrace as she cried her heart out.

"I hate her bloody emeralds impregnable barricade when they come up… Because I want her to open up to me… I hate that I am no match to any of her self-sufficiency and self-control… Because I want her to need me… I hate that I am a coward to demand for her love… Because all I need is her love…"

Hermione could not care now that she is pouring her heart out to a blue-eyed stranger… She needed to bring out the burden of loving Minerva McGonagall as it was causing havoc inside her for the last two years… And in her world, no one she can go to… specially not to her best friends… Thus, for a while she continued to blabber in the kind arms of a blue-eyed woman.

"And I hate that you are right that I do not want to forget her… And I am bloody fooling myself… because you can crucio me all you want but I would not stop loving her. I would probably face two voldemorts if that would take to make her love me back… No, not probably— but surely. And not just two evils, maybe ten or hundreds. And they can carve mudblood all they want into me if I get to love her freely and get her love in return as freely... I'm a bloody, bloody fool."

"Darling, you are not making sense—"

"Hermione… My name is Hermione… She would call me 'darling' when we are in bed and… and…" she choked in her own tears as memories assaulted her specially of their last afternoon's indulgence.

"Hermione, you are not a fool. Just completely in love with your woman."

"She is not my woman. She is not anybody's. The woman is NOT for anyone's taking. I knew that and still I could not stop myself… That night when I first kissed her and she kissed be back and made love to me, I felt— it was the same thing for her as it was for me… but two years after, she still… Why won't she love me back?"

"How do you know she doesn't love you? Did she actually tell you?" Asked Lea with her intense blue eyes seizing her brown ones. "You do know that saying 'I love you' is not the only manner to convey love?"

Likely due to her drunken state, Hermione snorted at the statement while fresh tears leaked out from her brown eyes as she responded, "Perhaps. Except when I told her 'I love you', it resulted to the most frightening face I ever seen of her. You would have thought she was dueling dark lord, but even then against Voldemort her face was without fright."

"What do you mean with— never mind… Hermione, maybe she does... Maybe she doesn't. But does that change that you love her?"

"No… Never." Hermione admitted and drown the remaining content of her bottle. And she could feel the edge of a black pit touching her like a welcome company… But a warm breath over her face is pulling her back…

"Hermione… Don't pass out on me… Wake up…"

"Huh...? Are you sure you don't want to take me home tonight? Or can I take you home instead?" Hermione slurred and a stronger feel of dusk enveloped her.

Then images of Minerva paraded inside her head… One when the woman was laughing with abandon when told of her boggart story… Another when the woman first let her see her cry when narrating her war scars and sufferings… Another when the woman's emerald eyes widened in grievousness during her very first action for physical intimacy… Then the same emeralds turned glassy when they made love…

"Hermione… Wake up…"

"Mione…?"

Hermione fought the fog and her mind would slip back into a pool full of Minerva… Minerva standing at her bookcases and laughing about her 7-year old stubbornness to read a French book… Of Minerva in muggle clothes… Of Minerva staring at her like she was just content to do so… Of Minerva calling her 'Mione'… Of Minerva in utter rapture…

Then a hard shake on her shoulders dispersed the images and Hermione tried to focused and listen to the accompanied supplication.

"Hey Hermione… Hermione… I need you to open your eyes."

Hermione wanted to ignore the call for her to be awake. She wanted to remain tossing around in her head with the many memories of Minerva. She wanted to not feel the pain of rejection and concentrate on Minerva's beautiful face and tender gazes… But the one rousing her from the delicious conscious abandonment is relentless, which she could no longer snub.

Two pairs of blue eyes met her half-conscious self and it took her quite some time to arrive in a coherent state and absorb the words being said to her. And after the greatest effort to concentrate to her surroundings, she emerged and remembered that she is still out drinking her pain…

Then somehow, she recognized two concerned pair of blue eyes fixated on her. One set is from the beautiful and kind woman called Lea whom she met over an hour ago with her brother Lec, who is still snoring across her. The other set of blue eyes is very familiar…

"Ron…? Ron!" She spluttered in surprise.

"She knows me, alright now?"

"Silly, course I do…" Hermione stammered as she swayed in absolute drunkenness, trying to comprehend the ongoing dialogue between her long time friend and newly met friend.

"Hermione I just need to make sure. You do really know him?" asked Lea carefully.

"Yep. Infuriatingly childish sometimes but had willingly thrown himself again and again in front of me and Harry against evil…"

"Do I allow him to take you home? Because he said he had been looking for you?"

"Awww, Ron… I don't deserve you… Even if I screamed and insulted you earlier you still went looking for me? You are really a best friend!"

"Of course Mione! Harry and I been running around to find you the last couple of hours…"

"Harry?" asked Hermione timidly and she cowered at recalling what she had spat at him at the Burrow's kitchen.

"Once we found you here, he asked that I take care getting you home. And that I make sure you stay home."

"He is anger at me, isn't he?"

"Scared to death with worry for you Mione."

"I hurt him… I hurt you… I was… I am…" Hermione started but the consumed entire bottle of whisky finally caught up in her entire system and she could no longer fight but surrender to the inviting vacuum and let blankness take over…

For several times she tried to arise from limbo, but every time, she was assaulted of her own abusing words she had imparted that afternoon to the very woman she loves above all…

_Was afternoon fuck too early for you…?_

_Oh is it because you fucking reached your quota today when you came inside me?_

_After all, this is turning out as our annual fuck?_

_Our commemorative shag…?_

In her oblivion, Hermione pleaded for forgiveness… And recited again and again how she loves Minerva… How she would do everything and anything for the woman… How she is willing to accept whatever that can be thrown by the woman rather than entirely have nothing, which she cannot bear… She pleaded to Merlin and all the gods and goddesses that Minerva would still want her despite the cruel things she had said… Hermione promised whatever power out there that she would understand the space and detachment all year round so long as Minerva will go to her when the woman could afford to... She whimpered of how she would wait for years and years if that what would entail to have a chance with Minerva… Anything to have a chance…

Come by morning, her set alarm went off and she scurried to shut it off… Blindly she rushed out of her bed to go to her bathroom and just made it a second before she could make a mess as she vomited her drinking binge last night…

If she was not so pre-occupied heaving against her toilet, she would have screamed and hexed the person who appeared behind her, who held her hair and soothed her aching back as she emptied her stomach of toxic.

When Hermione wiped her face after running it with cold water, she finally faced the caring person and found Ron. Apparently, he had taken her home last night and stayed over to look after her… But before she could say something, she was beaten with series of instructions and pronouncements.

"Drink this water. Take these two potions for your headache and stomach. Have a cold shower. Breakfast will be ready when you are done. And I don't want objections Hermione, just bloody do it…"

About thirty minutes later, head and stomach a bit better from the cold shower and potions' initial effect, she entered her kitchen. There, she confirmed that indeed her **red-haired wizard** of a best friend is in her flat. Who had commanded her earlier to get herself into some state of order... And now, had set a simple breakfast in front of her…

"Ron, I need to go to work—"

"I sent an owl to your staff that you'll show up after lunch…" Ron interrupted her and then pointed to a chair, "Sit and eat."

Eating is not exactly agreeable with Hermione's groaning stomach but before she could argue, Ron again beat her…

"Eat even a little so you can take another dose of potion to completely relieve your hangover. Because blimmey Mione, you need your brain for the confession you're going to make…"

_Bloody hell._

Hermione knew there is no way she could escape the interrogation that is coming and all she can do is delay it… As she slowly ate her breakfast and ignored Ron's piercing stare, she thought back of what exactly she had blurted in her plastered condition last night… Those she can recall are not really comforting and making her extremely apprehensive with the coming question-and-answer portion. Her jaw clenched in tension for all the follies she had committed the last 12 hours but she knew she has to face the consequences.

The minute she put down the potion container after consuming its contents, Ron began without ambiguity.

"The Minerva you called in your sleep, whom you were begging to love you back is THE Minerva MCGONAGALL, Hogwarts Headmistress, Transfiguration Master amongst all, and possibly most powerful witch right now, right?"

Hermione winced. And then to her utmost distress, she could do nothing against the gathered tears in her brown eyes, which immediately raced down her cheeks. She felt Ron moved and pulled her into a tight embrace where she buried her face in his chest. She cried and cried, and in between she started unveiling the chronicle of loving one Minerva McGonagall…

She told Ron of her confusion at Hogwarts that began somewhere fourth or fifth year… Her aching self-admission of one's identity in the midst of war— and of who had captured her heart in its truest sense… Her terror at the knowledge that both of them would not survive the war, specially Minerva who was residing with death eaters at Hogwarts... Of her pride and fright during Hogwarts' battle when Minerva took up the primary mantle to help Harry and fight against evil… That the moment it was over she pursued the woman but only awakened at the vast disparity between herself and the woman she is in love with… For without Dumbledore, the witch has no more cloak and it propelled her to be her true self, thus referred as THE witch amongst all...

Without really sifting her thoughts, Hermione accounted to Ron of the golden fate that she was presented two years ago after the ceremony at Hogwarts ground. Of how it led her to see, and be with the real Minerva— without 'THE MCGONAGALL' façade…

"Ron, I always knew she's wonderful but I had no idea how truly wonderful she is. The little time I spent with that woman, just Minerva, I have no chance not to fall for her furthermore..."

Hermione continued to tell Ron of what she had found out last year; of Minerva's support that made it possible for her to have the apprenticeship with Filius and Klyde despite the woman's over flowing responsibilities at Hogwarts and Ministry... Of how these things ignited hope in her heart that maybe Minerva loves her too…

She even divulged to Ron of the physical intimacy she had shared with the woman and the glassy emeralds that would drown her... And then their ambiguous agreement about the roles and responsibilities stacked between them for being 'Minerva McGonagall' and 'Hermione Granger'...

Finally, she told him of how she had lost it yesterday after being with Minerva and telling the woman 'I love you' and the woman's frightened reaction, thus explaining her foolishness at the Burrow…

"I'm so sorry Ron for what I said to you last night… I was being eaten by awful insecurities and pain, and no excuse for the lashing out I did to you and Harry… Gods, I'm so sorry… I don't deserve you and Harry… I was so cruel and the things I said are completely unforgivable…"

For a good while, she soaked Ron's shirt with her tears and her red haired best friend let her… But when her crying had eventually subsided, and she had a glass of water to somehow calm down, she silently waited for her best friend's reaction. Ron for once was lost for immediate words as he seemingly processed what she had revealed to him…

When the silence went on and on and considering it is Ron, she squirmed in her seat and ultimately decided to head on her fear— of how she had lost her best friend for telling him who she is…

"Ron, do you want now to do nothing with me?"

"What?"

"Are you disgusted? I just told you I am gay… And… and if you don't want to be friends anymore, it would break my heart. But I would not want to force you to keep this friendship if you cannot accept who I am."

"Hermione… We conquered a bloody war. Do you really think there's anything left to threaten our friendship?"

"Ron…" Hermione took a deep breath and controlled the tears from spilling once again. But she knows it is important that she left nothing unturned about this fundamental matter about her.

"Do you understand that for many, I am not a 'normal' person?"

She watched Ron wiped his face of the cringed that appeared on it and noted his stooping form at the ugly reality. She is much aware of how she is forcing to lay down the notion on the table because she knows Ron, and she had long guessed that that is how his best friend thinks about someone being gay. Not because he is a bad person but their family may be very poor but they are of traditional type and Ron was definitely raised on certain 'norm'…

"Ron, this… about me… is something many are still not accepting, even appalled with… Even your family could possibly not understand this and I would understand that. But I cannot pretend to you that this will go away, because it will not… because—"

"Mione—"

"It means that I would never want to be with a man in the expected capacity that you ought to be with a woman… Like Harry with Ginny… Ron, I am gay… I'm also sorry I did not tell you before today. But honestly, I'm not ready because I do not want to handle its complications? And how I am so scared to lose you—"

"Hermione! You will not lose me! We're best friends! Don't you know that I really feel that you're my sister...?" Ron intersected and had his blue eyes focused on her before he continued, "I get that you fancy witches… Or rather ONE witch… And of all— it's THE WITCH!"

Hermione could not help the sob that passed her lips and the fresh tears that cascaded down her face… The vulnerability evoked in her with the admission was proving to be too much for her tender emotions…

"Come here…" Ron pulled her back into an embrace as he carried on… "Honestly Mione, while you blabbered in your sleep, I could already put one thing after the other… I mean, I was shocked to hear the things coming out from you in your drunkenness… At first, I could not understand why you called Minerva again and again in your unconsciousness. I guess my mind could not cope up right away. But with the night, and this morning while I waited for you to fully wake-up, I have had time to ready myself…"

"Oh Ron… I have long dreaded the day you find out and tell me that you can't be friends with me anymore because I am repulsive for loving… for loving Mi— a witch…"

"You mean, for loving Minerva…?"

Hermione could just hear the loud thrumming of her chest but she finally nodded at Ron for confirmation. "I do love her Ron… And it is unlike Harry's love for her... I am in-love with her— with Minerva... Want and need her... And that I do want to marry her if she would have me..."

"Honestly, that fact— that your witch is Minerva McGonagall is more of a shock than anything else…" Ron expelled a breath. "And then, when I truly think about it… let it sink in… it was not really a shock… Probably because I've known you since we were 11... I mean, I'm stunned and not really... You know what I mean…?"

Hermione half laughed and half cried as she nodded… Merlin she does understand what Ron meant… And then she felt Ron wiped the renewed tears that fell from her brown eyes…

For several minutes they were unable to say more as obviously both are crunching on things that they have spoken out loud… Then she chewed on her lips when suddenly Ron took her arm, tenderly stroke the slight but still ugly scar on it.

"Mione, how impossible the requisites to counter this?" Ron indicated to her scar.

Hermione narrated to Ron the three requisites to break Bellatrix's personal curse. Of how Draco Malfoy brought them to her door one night. And that despite how it was the Slytherin's ultimate decision to carve himself and obviously her eventual acceptance, it was not lost on both of how they were all orchestrated by one Minerva McGonagall. That without the woman's actions, it would not never happen. Ron nodded after she finished her account and again lapsed into silence, which made Hermione unsure for it was so unlike Ron to not immediately say something…

"Ron—" Hermione started but Ron simply waved her off.

"I don't know MG in a very personal way… I mean, I tried to see her as less of an imposing figure because of Harry's influence and her huge help with George. Plus mom always spoke of her in an affectionate way because I think her brothers were somewhat close to MG..."

Vaguely Hermione remembered Minerva's account of how the woman considered one of her sorrows was the time she had left Molly's brothers who got killed that night, because she answered to help Dumbledore and Amelia Bones against death eaters' attack at St. Mungos. She was internally debating if she would be breaking Minerva's confidence if she tells Ron of it, but then her attention was pulled by Ron's quite solemn words...

"But I am not Harry... And I am not George... So she is still— she's 'McGonagall' for me, you know… So I can't really say what or how she truly feels about you Mione… But based from what you told me, of what she has done for you, I would like to think that you do mean so much to her…"

"I hope Ron, but I don't know… The moment the war ended, she's hard on 'fixing' everything and everybody. And she has not stop doing so… And it was easy to misinterpret her actions…"

"Maybe... But I know that she was very concerned, almost angry with how your parents are not back here in the country after they got back their memories…"

"How do you know that?" Hermione's mind burned with curiosity.

"I heard MG talked to my parents about it—"

"She talked to your parents about my parents?" Hermione gasped.

"Yeah. One Sunday early morning she came to the Burrow… It was last year I think… I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but I heard your name and so I listened a bit. MG asked Mom if it's one of his kids that wiped their memories in order to protect them, would they hold out reconciliation the way your parents are doing so…?"

"She asked your parents that?" Hermione asked disbelievingly.

"Yeah, MG wanted to know if it was 'muggle' or 'parent' thing. But I can tell that she was almost cursing how your parents are missing the fact that what you've done was to protect their lives, despite the pain it plagued you… And how they should be proud of how you are a war hero instead of punishing you for it..."

"What?" Hermione was completely floored with the information.

"Come on Mione... There is a reason why they branded you the 'Golden Brain'... And really, it was not hard to understand that Harry had no chance without you… We told you that last year... And did you really not think that important people would not get that? Of course Ministry officers knew, Kingsley especially. So when MG asked him to prioritse finding your parents in Australia, and have their best Australian comrades on the mission, he would do so obviously."

"She asked Kingsley to prioritse finding my parents?"

Ron nodded, "Not that Minister Kingsley minded. Of course that's the least the Ministry can do for you and again, I don't think Kingsley would want to disappoint Minerva McGonagall..."

"How do you know this, Ron?"

"When you asked for permission to travel abroad to look for your parents, they were actually already on it. And I know because before you told us, Harry and I were already asked by Kingsley about what we know of your parents. They just wanted to get a head start before telling you. And they were serious too about protecting you— us from the still on the loose loyal followers of Voldemort."

Ron paused and seemed to search his memory for something, while Hermione also dived into her brain, remembering how Minerva intently listened to her last year at her parents' house as she 'updated' the woman of her parents whereabouts. She can recall how she thought she saw a moment of confusion in Minerva's face when she revealed that her parents are still in Australia.

"And then I can't remember what Susan Bones and I were chatting about..." Ron resumed talking and Hermione's heart jolted again at his continued discourse. "But somehow Susan mentioned about seeing the Headmistress at St. Mungos talking to Head Healer. And by chance caught the words 'travel to Australia as it would be less complicated than to go home with still lost memory'... Later, much later, I kind of put them together that it was about your parents… Wait, you didn't know these…? I thought you knew! I mean, you traveled with St. Mungos Head Healer to Australia, right?"

"I thought it was just the Minister, on behalf of the Ministry... Like what you said, a gesture of 'thanks' for our roles during the war."

Hermione released a breath she did not realise she was holding. And her heart started flicking with hope... Once again, she is finding out how Minerva went her way to do _something_ for her... For her... Her heart dangerously flirted with the concept that Minerva possibly loves her... Except the woman for decades and decades of being alone and self-sufficient would not know to simply say so? Or be so…?

She felt Ron's hand on her shoulder and she then she heard him verbalised her thoughts…

"Maybe she does love you Mione…"

She could not help but shudder. And shudder more with Ron's follow-up.

"Maybe you should just ask her?"

"No Ron! I can't just ask her that."

"What if she simply doesn't know how to tell you?" Ron asked and then added, "And I would not be surprised. Hermione, she's McGonagall! You can't denied how she is known as one of the most closed of person... You've heard how many times people have regarded her privacy as something like it is easier to get out of Azkaban than get inside McGonagall's personal space... Maybe she needs you to ask her..."

"Ron, what if this is mere wishful thinking… What if she just wants me with our current arrangement?"

"What? You sound as if you don't believe that you are good enough—"

"She's McGonagall, Ron! No one is good enough. And most of all, what if she doesn't want— need my love?" Hermione dejectedly argued.

"Then she does not deserve you Hermione!" Ron slowly responded but his tone is of pure conviction. "You are more than good enough. And if she thinks otherwise, then you need to get away from her."

"But Ron!" Hermione feebly replied, "I don't think I could bear not having her—"

"Are you Hermione Granger that I know?"

"It's just that... even our brief togetherness, I rather have them… than have her regarding me as mere Ms. Granger! And barricading me with all her damn walls! I love her that much Ron… And I fear not having anything from her..."

"And I can't believe you're a Gryffindor... And yeah, so as her, I think she's also not facing this authentically. And you call yourselves Gryffindors!"

"Believe me Ron, she is a pure Gryffindor." Hermione intuitively defended Minerva's character. "You have no idea how our combined courage, including Harry's, would pale in comparison with what she went through the three wars…"

"Oh... Okay… Still, for me that would make her a stupid Gryffindor for not knowing how lucky she is that Hermione Granger loves her! And you know, despite knowing she's the most powerful witch, it makes me want to call her out for a duel for putting you in this kind of... of whatever is this..."

Hermione can't quite decide if she ought to cry or laugh at her red-haired wizard best friend's brave pronouncements… But she could definitely feel the love and loyalty and she knows that these are the things that make her one lucky witch when they bonded over a troll incident when they were 11 year olds…

"I mean, even if she can transfigure me into a toad in a blink, I reckon Harry would step up as well to second me and fight for hurting you—"

"Harry doesn't know about Minerva!" Hermione can feel the panic rising inside her at red-haired best friend's implied statement. "Ron, last year, I did tell him that I'm gay. But not about Minerva! Ron, you CAN'T tell Harry!"

"Are you crazy Mione? I can't keep that from him… You know I could never keep anything from you and Harry! Obviously you two have left me in dark about your splinching and that you already admitted to him about you— yourself… But I can't…"

"I'm really sorry Ron for not telling you. I was really, really afraid that I would lose you... And when I told Harry, it was really because he had me backed in a corner, sort of… But he still does not know the story. He does not even know that the real reason I splinched was because I was running from Minerva's rejection…"

"Still Mione, I can't keep this from Harry! When he brought your potions this morning, I was glad he did not say or ask anything, but I know it would be a matter of time that he would ask me about this drunken incident of yours."

"Harry was here?"

"Yes, he brought your potions, took a second to look at you and then left… Mione, he would ask me for sure. What would I say to him? I can't lie to him Mione…"

"Ron, Harry cannot know! I can't do that to Harry?"

"Do what? Tell him the truth?"

"Damage Harry's relationship with Minerva… You can see how he has taken her like a family, like an older sister or something, right? Everybody can see that! He's very happy and proud of his new relationship with Minerva... of how the woman welcomes him anytime… I'm actually happy for both. I do know it makes wonder for both of them as they've been 'family-less' for a long time… So, I WILL NOT put a wedge on that relationship."

"Why would telling Harry the truth damage that? Maybe he would help?"

"Exactly Ron, Harry would try to help because he loves Minerva and he loves me. And he would draw a simple line like it was that easy… And it would not help at all… Please believe me… I KNOW Minerva… She would bring forth all her bloody walls and keep us all out… including Harry. Because she would think that she has to 'give' Harry to me completely and take herself out of the equation for everyone's happiness… That is what Minerva would do and I know it. Harry would not understand the barricade and would get hurt… I don't want to take Minerva away from him…"

"What the hell...? That's bloody screwed Mione."

"It is what it is… It's going to be a disaster not just with Harry... But think of the risk that if this gets out... Can you imagine how it'll be for our society to know that Minerva- well, you know... slept with me? I mean, you said it Ron, she's 'THE WITCH', she's McGonagall! Many thought that she was with Dumbledore but she never was and still, people believed that... And her position now is of utmost important. She had stepped into Dumbledore's place but without her own 'Minerva' to provide such great back-up."

"Oh bloody hell..."

"You know I am right…" Hermione sought Ron's one hand. "Besides, I don't think Harry would ask you, he would ask me directly."

"What would you tell him?"

"He won't ask now… He will wait for me to be ready to tell him…"

"Then you better be bloody ready Mione."

"I know…"

After Ron was convinced that she is all right, he finally left her to get ready for work. On the way to the Ministry, she stopped at the owl post and sent the short note she wrote for Harry.

_. . ._

_Dear Harry,_

_I am so dumb. Please forgive me?_

_Love, Hermione_

_. . ._

Every minute at the Ministry, she devoured her mind and energy working and working until finally Ron's note arrived at her in-tray that told her to go home and rest and not to forget to have dinner. And attached was a package containing a roast beef sandwich, which is Ron's favorite with a another note that says exactly so but wants her to have it instead of her usual bland toast. She did eat it and for another hour, she continued working until she knew that she has to leave or risk a howler from Ron…

When she got to her flat, Harry's owl was waiting for her and vaguely she can feel a tremor running down her veins as she fed the owl some treats. She delayed reading the note and opted to get ready for the night and though tempted to drink something to calm her nerves, she resisted. About half an hour later, and finally settled on her bed, she read Harry's response.

_. . ._

_Mione,_

_You're forgiven. But you are the Golden Brain and so Merlin help the rest of us if you are dumb… And that your brilliant self must have told you that I will not force you for an explanation but will wait until you are ready to tell me…_

_Love, Harry_

_PS. I hope you no longer have a hangover and that you had dinner._

_. . ._

Hermione felt the cramping of her heart for the love she has for Harry… And Ron… They are truly her best friends… Brothers in essence… She could not be more grateful for their existence… At the same time, she was reminded of all the wrongness she had said to them during her vicious episode and promised herself to do everything not to ever do it again to her best friends…

She had re-read the note again and she could not help but let tears fall down her face at Harry's obvious love and respect… Just as she had known, he would give her time… Similar to when she begged him to not discuss her splinch until Harry deemed it enough time…

Hermione cried in bed for some more, for the wretched conflict she has in heart. Of how not to get Harry involved with her chaotic situation with Minerva… She truly fears the day she has to give that explanation to Harry…

But like a wild card— several weeks after that day, Hermione found herself needing to give that explanation…

For she found out that she's pregnant...

That Minerva Isobel McGonagall— transfiguration master of all, got her bloody pregnant...

* * *

**End of Chapter | Year 2000**

**Blue Eyed Strangers and Red Haired Wizard**

* * *

_Sometimes actions have life-altering results..._

_Do you think this will close the gap between Minerva and Hermione? Or not? How about Harry?_

* * *

* * *

AN:

... Lec and Lea - my additions | Hypatia Allis - Recurring addition

... Still borrowing from JK Rowling

... Thank you for STILL reading.


	25. The Explanations

**Year 2000 | 3rd Seventh of May**

**Several Weeks after**

* * *

_But like a wild card— several weeks after that day, Hermione found herself needing to give that explanation…_

… _For she found out that she's pregnant._

… _That Minerva Isobel McGonagall— transfiguration master of all, got her bloody pregnant._

* * *

"You are generally fine Hermione…"

Hermione heard the doctor, the muggle doctor that she finally consulted this morning after nausea, headaches, and fatigue started to plague her several days ago. But she knew that there is something else as the Granger's family physician took a pause and stared at her intently.

"Just tell me doctor."

The doctor focused on her and clearly stated, "You're pregnant Hermione."

Hermione knew that her brown eyes widened at her doctor's news. "Pregnant…" she breathed, while trying and failing to conceal her utmost shock…

"Yes, 5-weeks pregnant."

The doctor gave an affirmation with no chance of misunderstanding. And upon hearing the absoluteness, it took everything in Hermione not to say out loud the very questions that instantly dominated inside her.

_Fucking Minerva got me fucking pregnant? How the fuck that's possible?_

"Are you sure doctor?" Hermione's forehead creased as her brain somehow functioned and asked, "I don't mean to be offensive to question your ability. But— but I just want to know if a 5-week period is enough to confirm it? Or maybe I have another illness?"

What Hermione really wanted to say is—

_Yes, their indulgence that afternoon involved magic but still… HOW did the bloody witch gotten her pregnant? For all the hundreds of magical books and articles read, Hermione encountered none_ — NONE _that accounted or even indicated something remotely of similar outcome. That despite the great intricacy of transfiguration, the core magic has always been limited to external alteration. And NEVER EVER affecting the very nature of human chromosomes!_

"I understand Hermione and no offense taken. We could do another blood test if you want, but in my professional opinion, your lab results read nothing unusual except the fact that you're indeed pregnant.

Hermione was pulled between laughing and crying! The good doctor, unbeknownst to him, probably just said the most ironic statement, because ' _nothing unusual except that you're indeed pregnant'_ is nothing but unusual. So unusual that even in the magical world, a witch gotten pregnant by another witch would no doubt turn the wizarding people utterly confused…

_Oh Merlin what she— what Minerva— what THEY have done?_

"Hermione, your physical indications are consistent with pregnancy. Plus, didn't you take notice that your last period was way more than a month ago?"

Hermione could merely nod. She forced her brain to focus on what the doctor is telling her and how her elementary knowledge of human physiology is in accord of the facts laid out. She mentally asked herself of how she could have missed her period and not realized it. Furthermore, she had to ask herself how she knew not to take potions as easy resolve to relieve her sickness, when that's what she normally does. She found that she has no answer, other than it didn't feel right…

On top of these, it also occurred to her that seeking her long-standing physician who is not part of the wizarding world was proving to be the correct call. Supposed she went to St. Mungos or to a medi-witch, she can't imagine how the news of the 'Golden Brain Soon-To-Be-A-Mother' would spread like a wild fire… Bloody Merlin, she would be everyone's favourite topic at every conversation... But no, no... she can't think about that now! She pushed it aside knowing that she can't and won't prioritise that particular aspect, because amongst the rising mounting of concern, indubitably the ultimate one is the baby…

"Hermione, I do not want to be intrusive, but I've known you for a long time so I would just speak plainly." The doctor focused on Hermione even more. "I can see how stunned you are that you're actually pregnant so I need you to reflect on what you want to do from here on because—"

"I'll keep the baby." Hermione intervened.

Hermione knew that indeed she would keep the baby... Of course she is still so shocked, and it's really beyond her on how it was even possible! But after that, and without a doubt, she wants the baby…

"It's a surprise, really… But doctor, I do want the baby and I am sure of it." Hermione strongly affirmed and she could feel her heart seconded her words… "That is your question right? And… And don't worry, I will tell my parents as soon as I can." she added to assuage the doctor.

Her parents— one of the tons of complications, notwithstanding their current impaired relationship is already giving Hermione a foresight of how tough things will be... But damn, every fiber within her is saying that she wants the baby… Her baby… Minerva's baby girl— or baby boy!

The last thought led Hermione to ask, "Doctor, when can I know if I'm going to have a girl or boy?" And she could not help the grin that adorned her face.

"Few more weeks Hermione." The doctor smiled at her in response. "And as I am a general practitioner, I have to refer you to specialist who is a friend of mine… Now, I also need to tell you that whether the father is in the picture or not, I hope you somehow get his medical background. You know it is smart to have the information on hand, right?"

The grin on her face slowly vanished and she fought for the doctor not to take notice of it. She just nodded vigorously to acknowledge the concern. But subsequently, inside her head, it was back bursting with mixture of astonishment and fright. Because of how literally there is no father in the picture! And AGAIN, how the bloody hell did one Minerva Isobel McGonagall have gotten her pregnant?

Hermione could not recall how she got home coming from the Doctor's clinic and it wasn't even an exaggeration. Truly and deeply, all she could think of are the incoming entanglements in her life— resulted from that afternoon indulgence that Sunday, **Seventh of May** …

When she momentarily managed to set aside the conundrum of how she got pregnant, she was slapped with the biggest question she ought to ask in the first place— _How the bloody hell would Minerva react about the baby? THEIR baby…?_

For the next couple of hours… days… she tossed and turned about telling and not telling Minerva about their baby…

Miserably, all her pondering, all the pathways she have opened in her contemplation have led her to one place— Minerva's frightened countenance after the professed very short sentence: 'I love you Minerva'. And its equally painful subsequent dismissal...

Despite Hermione's heart wishing otherwise, her own intelligence dictated that that brutal rejection is a substantial foreshadowing of how the woman may actually react with the baby…

With fright and dismissal.

Hermione gasped at the painful presumption. And then altogether she was reminded of how unavailable the woman except for handful of moments. How the witch is already attached to everything and everybody in their bloody wizarding world in a general scheme of duties and responsibilities. And NOT for a deep and encompassing personal attachment... And how that reality is one Hermione needed to consider above all. Because while she can endure rejections for herself, she cannot and would not endure the woman rejecting their baby…

And so she has decided… She won't tell Minerva… She can't tell Minerva…

However, as she is determined to keep and raise the baby, she knew that there is no bloody hell she can hide the truth from her two best friends… She cannot even begin to envision the problematic idea in skirting around her best friends, especially once she gives birth… But in all honesty, Hermione was enveloped with the greatest need to simply tell Harry and Ron. But more honestly, she needs her best friend… That is— if they don't hex her first to kingdom come…

Hence, two weeks after she learnt of her pregnancy, she asked them to come over for dinner, with every intention to tell them the truth…

Close to painful anxiousness, Hermione almost jumped when the wards to her flat shifted and felt Harry's overriding magic as the securing mechanism was dismantled. For the nth time, she attempted to calm her nerves, fully conscious that she is about to give that long overdue and critical **explanation** to Harry… And a lot more **explanations** that even Ron would surely be surprised of… That she's pregnant… that Minerva got her pregnant…

"Sorry Mione we're late. But we brought you vanilla ice cream" greeted Ron as he kissed her cheek.

"You mean Harry brought me vanilla ice cream?" she teased Ron with accurate deduction.

Harry laughed and kissed her too, "In Ron's defense Mione, I was the one late. Baby James and I were playing and I sort of forgot the time. It was Gin who asked if I wasn't already due to our dinner. And that the freezing charm I put on this ice cream was already wearing off."

True to Harry's written response when she apologized for the uncalled and awful lashing she gave him last May 7, he had not brought it up. Actually, the next time they saw each other after her daft episode, she had noted how her best friend had made a show that the matter was shoved aside, until she wants/ready to bring it out for reckoning… And the time has arrived to bring it front and center.

She took a deep breath and not permitted herself with any second of delay, she started, "Harry, Ron… Do you mind if I talk to you about something first before we eat…?"

Being friends for almost a decade had made each of them super attuned with each other when a matter of importance was brought by one on the table. She watched her two best friends exchanged a certain look, of which Hermione had read as— 'we will support her whatever it is'. It tugged her heart so much that it made her just want to hug them and cry in their arms. But fright also flickered in her heart of how they might take the news, particularly Harry… for he is about to find out that she and Minerva— two people very close to him had lied to him by severe omission for the last two years…

Hermione gathered all the Gryffindor inside her and met Ron's and then Harry's inquisitive eyes. But before she could say a word, Ron suddenly turned to Harry and admonished the boy who lived.

"Mate, you can't react your usual brooding way okay?"

Hermione's eyes widened, she realized that Ron had quickly guessed that she's going to give that **explanation.** And he is trying to semi-warn Harry to take it well. Except, he does not know that it was just a part of it, and knowing Ron, the rest of her pending **explanation** would for sure send him to an alarming fit.

"Me…? Come on Ron, I am not the one who usually reacts almost moronic, especially to Mione…" Harry's responded with clear objection in his voice as he also turned to him.

"Moronic? Nah. I do not. And Harry, you do brood a lot when you learn things you don't want to…"

"Perhaps you mistake concern for brooding." Harry air-quoted the two words in question to highlight his point. "And mate, you do really say and do moronic things when you are upset. I'm sorry but that's true…"

"Well Harry, I'm just saying that whatever Mione—"

"Ron, I'm just saying that with Mione—"

Hermione sighed, and in one breath interrupted her best friends.

"Harry-Ron-I'm-pregnant."

The small debate that was unfolding before her expectantly halted when she threw in the truth in its simplest statement. Then she watched blue and olive eyes widened and turned back the focus on her.

"Did you just say you're… pregnant?" Ron in a wheeze was first to react after he picked up his jaw.

"Yes. I'm pregnant. I was feeling sick and went to a Muggle doctor for a check-up. Turned out I was already five weeks pregnant. Now seven weeks pregnant to be more accurate."

Cautiously, Hermione began with those facts and readied herself even more for the incoming real reaction from the boys once the initial shock is over. Nevertheless, the look of absolute confusion on Ron's face is already knocking her nerves. She could read in him how he couldn't tie together the things she had told him several weeks ago with the ones she just divulged to them now. How could he? When being gay— being so much in-love with Minerva— and being pregnant— are pronouncements that supposedly cannot be used in the same conjunction.

"I know the complications it would entail, but I have decided to keep the baby…"

Hermione pushed forward with her **explanation** as she attempted to sound firm with such declaration. But really, what she heard was her entreating self for her best friends' acceptance and support. She prayed that they too heard it…

"Harry, Ron… I'm going to be a mum." She professed breathlessly.

A long stretch of silence descended on her living room as the actuality of what she had revealed draped over them… When the reticence became too much, Hermione elected to brave the rest of the things she has to admit to complete that **explanation.** Despite the wrecking sensation bidding her to leave this hard position of truth admittance, she knows it has to be done and she has to do it now. But before she could say another word, Harry intersected her. And sent her to her own unbelieving state…

"She got you pregnant…?"

Hermione could only gasped as tremors ran through her with Harry's question-non-question.

"She… Minerva… she got you pregnant?"

There. Harry cut all the unnecessary obfuscation. And he drag raced right into the heart of the matter.

"BLOODY HELL!" Ron swore loudly.

Hermione cursed at the same time; only it was mentally issued, but equally crisp.

"How the bloody hell was that possible for witches— no, no, no, I DON'T want to know! The hell…!" Ron sputtered.

She heard Ron's out of control stupefaction and then heard him ask the question in her head that she has yet to find voice to ask.

"But, but hang on, hang on a second— Harry, how could you ask that? How do you— you knew about them? You knew about Mione and… and McGona—Minerva?"

"And you knew about them, obviously!" Harry pointedly answered him. "And if I would have to guess, the 'how', which you don't want to know— is possible when two brilliant and highly skillful witches got themselves in bed. Especially when they are not just any witches but top transfiguration masters."

"But… but…" Ron attempted to say something but he could only nod at Harry's supplemented **explanation**. And he nodded quite several times and quite slowly, illustrating that he is slowly digesting things, and yet displaying how he is not sure if he actually wants to comprehend it or not comprehend at all…

"I'm guessing Mione tumbled with her secret during her drunken episode?" Harry continued with his account and Ron continued to just nod in response, but with a more perplexed expression on his face, if that was possible...

"But… but Mione said you have no idea about her and McGO— Minerva…" Ron finally managed to speak a complete sentence. "She said you don't know."

"She didn't think I would have guessed?" Harry responded with incredulity.

"And you didn't tell me when you've guessed it?" Ron retorted.

"I was really waiting for admittance from Mione. Besides, I didn't want to force her out, and cause complications if they are not ready to announce their relationship."

Hermione felt the wretchedness in her guts at Harry's obvious conclusion that what she has with Minerva is a real relationship; she wanted to interfere in order to correct the status but her ability to speak at the moment is failing her. Besides, Harry was on the roll.

"And Minerva— well, we all know of the woman's legendary private walls…" Harry sort of waved in the air as if to demonstrate its description of massiveness and impregnability that explains for the clandestineness.

Ron ran his one hand over his red hair as he continued, "So, how do you know Harry? Hermione said you don't know about her and McGo— Minerva! That you can't— must not know about them!"

"Why not? Would I object?" asked Harry and then declared, "I won't and I don't."

Hermione watched both her best friends redirected their attention back to her. The turn of the conversation is unceasingly giving her a massive shock. Truly, she found herself unable to form a word.

"Mione, so why I can't know?" Harry asked.

Hermione knew that that question would come out. Now apart from the shock that Harry knew all along, heavy guilt is on her, especially when she can see the sadness that slowly but surely clouding his features as he waited for the answer. She momentarily debated in her head on how to tell him the truth, knowing that he could take it the worst way— of which he would be convinced that she didn't trust him enough.

"Mione, why didn't you want me to know? You did tell me something major about 'who' you are. So why not the equally important thing about you— of you being with Minerva?"

For several days, Hermione had prepared herself for the interrogations from the boys. But so suddenly, and quite unsurely how, she found herself thoroughly shock that all the rehearsed answers to her imagined questions are all gone. Her brain is short-circuiting at the uncertainties. And her heart is aching at how Harry had indeed wrongly established that she is with Minerva in its truest sense…

"You should have known that I would be most happy for you two…"

Unintentionally, Harry plunged the dagger deeper with his announced 'endorsement' of 'her being with Minerva'... Fearful that she would be toppled over by her emotions, she scrambled for a temporary suspension and her brain led her to inquisitiveness that was ignited the moment Harry mentioned Minerva.

"Harry… I don't understand… How did you know…? And you knew since when?"

"Since we were on the run."

Hermione inhaled sharply. She didn't expect for him to have guessed that long ago. And a swift calculation of between that time and now told her that Harry had plenty of time and opportunity to observe her and Minerva. But it does not add-up, because technically and obviously nothing was going on with her and Minerva that time…

"That can't be. I haven't— There wasn't— We haven't…" she started to explain but Harry waived her off.

"One miserable morning, more miserable than the usual ones we would have out there on the run, I stumbled at the fact that there was someone you left at Hogwarts— someone you are in-love with…"

"How?" Ron asked before Hermione could.

"It was—" Harry began but paused, and Hermione watched him made an unconscious slight scratching gesture to his forehead scar… Tell sign that her olive-eyed best friend was digging deep into his own mind to figuratively pull something he had carefully boxed.

And a certain shift is unmistakable as Harry is now the one giving his **explanation.**

"We just managed to get you to take a rest after you pulled a double-triple watch over us, over our camp… You were outside guarding" Harry gestured at Ron before turning back to Hermione. "I came in to get one of your books to get my mind off from the horcruxes… Then you stirred violently in your sleep, mumbling in obvious nightmare. But before I could wake you, I heard you pleaded and pleaded hard, to whoever and whatever powers out there to not let Gryffindor courage kill that one person stuck at Hogwarts that you love with all your heart…"

Hermione was completely floored... Their time on the run plagued her day and night with vagueness, but it also brought her certain clarity. Top of which is 'coming out' to herself, and the moment she did, the realization of how thoroughly in-love she is with Minerva rapidly followed. But she knew she was very careful not to utter a word of it, and made sure that she had locked it away. Apparently, she was not as careful when asleep…

"But you didn't mention Minerva's name, so I didn't know it was her… I didn't even know it was a 'her'. But I figured that the war made you admit to yourself that someone finally captured your heart. Still, I didn't know who. Then after the battle, I was afraid that your Gryffindor was one of those who perished, especially AFTER you've splinched. And how you were so determined to kill yourself with work after the war. And how you would exert the greatest effort not to flinch whenever Hogwarts or anyone related to Hogwarts were mentioned. I just didn't catch right away that it wasn't just anyone from Hogwarts, nor just any Gryffindor— but the Gryffindor Head, and well, now the Headmistress of Hogwarts."

"Then when—" she resumed asking but Harry cut her again.

"I found out during the first year commemoration at Hogwarts." Harry sighed before revealing furthermore. "And no, not at the great hall but—"

"—At the lake..." Hermione interrupted breathlessly.

"Yes." Harry confirmed. "After you left, I decided to slip-off for a moment from the great hall to visit Dumbledore. I didn't want anyone to know or see me doing it. I didn't want anyone creating any drama of it. So, I had the invisibility cloak on me."

Hermione's quick brain was already retrieving and playing memories of her and Minerva during that night. When she could not help herself but followed Minerva at the lake, after Peeves unknowingly led her to where the woman was.

"At first I didn't realize it was the two of you because there was quite a distance between us. And I couldn't really see you. I can only hear soft voices talking. I even thought the wind was just carrying the sound from the great hall, or paintings are talking somewhere inside the castle. You know how it was at Hogwarts sometimes… Then I heard something like _lemon drops_ and laughter, and finally recognized your voice and Minerva's."

Hermione's all too reliable memory pulled it all out for a flashback…

" _He sent you lemon drops." Hermione said after Minerva showed her a small packet from one of her robe pockets._

" _Would you like to have some?"_

" _Thank you but no. I never really like its taste."_

" _Me neither. And Albus knows that."_

"You were still out of my vantage point but I was already glad to know that you haven't left and actually with Minerva…seemingly sharing a laugh. But before I can really advance towards your direction, and before I can take off the cloak, you came into my line of sight. And seeing how you were standing so close with an air of 'intimacy' made me stop… literally stop on my spot…"

Hermione tried to read Harry's expression where bafflement and amusement dominated, but hurt also registered on his face. And it was not lost on her that Harry already pondered, probably on many occasions, why the two witches 'supposedly' closest to him are lying to him… regardless that it was lie of omission… Particularly that he is convinced of an existing relationship between her and Minerva.

"Honestly Mione, I got confused at what I was seeing— you and Minerva had your hands clasped tight… fingers laced together…"

Hermione of course knew what Harry was referring to. The memory also played in Hermione's mind with clarity…

_Minerva let out a short laugh as she put away the pack of lemon drops. Hermione could not help but tighten their laced fingers together upon hearing them and somewhat pulled Minerva closer to her._

"Afterwards, I heard Minerva called you Hermione… And I remember being struck of how strange it was. And then realized that it was strange because I never heard her address you like that… I mean, we were just talking at the great hall and you were greeting 'The Headmistress', and Minerva was all 'Ms. Granger' when she congratulated you on your double masteries…"

Hermione knew all too well what Harry meant. She has always been 'Ms. Granger' to Minerva whenever they are not in the exclusivity of each other and tucked away from everyone and anyone...

After the war, after 'something' started between them, the formal addressing even got more deliberate when they are in public. And perhaps it became more pronounced because two of the Golden Trio seemed to have regarded the older woman beyond the Professor and Headmistress' titles. That even Ron has crossed to a less than ceremonial reference with the revered woman. But not her, not the Golden Brain, which is more curious because amongst the Trio, actually amongst the student body, she was the one who had spent more time with the older witch during their Hogwarts days, from their many advanced Transfiguration lessons.

"And not only the lack of the formal titles but… but…" Hermione watched Harry paused mid-sentence and seemed to re-evaluate his words.

Being best friends for years, she had learned to follow his line of thinking quite easily… Like right now, she knows that he wanted to say that Minerva did not sound like 'The Headmistress' out there at the lake. Maybe not even the private Minerva that he has gotten to know after the war. Not even the one he now regard as family… And Hermione agrees with this, because out there at the lake, Minerva without walls and with discarded masks, was the unknown Minerva who had been with her that night…

"I mean, I never heard Minerva like that… She sounded so 'tender and vulnerable'… And suddenly it painted the whole picture that… that Minerva was— is your Gryffindor— the one stuck at Hogwarts during the war… Then I got jolted and knew that I should not listen to a private conversation nor interrupt it. So I turned and left, and the last thing I heard was Minerva saying something about that night at the manor…"

The last part of what Harry said made Hermione understood something else about that night. It explained why Minerva for a second got lost looking over her shoulder. Not only because of what the woman was about to bring forth in discussion, which was 'their night' at the manor, but the woman's animagus senses had her momentarily distracted in discerning if what she had picked up was within their vicinity, or only carried from somewhere to the open air. Apparently, Harry had eluded complete detection, most likely because Minerva's emotions were also in disarray that night.

"But you never said anything Mione so I figured you were buying time to tell me and I really didn't want to force you. And considering that that morning was the same morning I promised you that I would never force you..." Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Now we return to my question Mione, why did you not want me to know?"

And indeed they are back at her **explanation**.

"Because… because…" Hermione started, but all she could think of are all the times Minerva issued rejections against the love she had offered.

At the Manor—

" _I fucked you and it was a mistake…"_

At her house after that first commemoration—

" _Tomorrow… I need to be… You need to be…"_

At the Minister's office—

" _Part of the whys darling… part of the tangled complications between who we are…"_

At that muggle diner—

" _That is how it goes darling… that is your path… part of who we are darling… part of who we are expected to be…"_

That letter—

" _We can't afford more…"_

And finally— her _mad declaration of 'I love you' and the frightful beautiful face of Minerva in response…_

Harry's hand touched hers in gentle call for her attention. She swallowed once, twice in order to say something. And she bit her lower lip to stop the quiver that began. And she did everything she can to pull back her tears.

"Mione, I just want you to know that when I found out about you and Minerva, I was really happy. You deserve no one else but someone great. And Minerva too... And in my book, the two of you together is just perfect. When I got over my initial shock and I thought back at the image of you two at the lake holding hands, honestly I saw how beautiful the two of you together… Really." Harry chuckled before he added, "And many, many times, I had to hold myself from outright teasing either or both of you."

Hermione heard Harry genuine gladness and it drove her further into a wretched conflict. The fear of how the truth will negatively affect her olive-eyed best friend is already causing her immense pain. She is so certain that she would be destroying the beautiful familial relationship between Harry and Minerva.

"I don't understand Hermione… You don't really think I would be happy that you're with Minerva? Why?" Harry repeated his questions but this time, his quite irritated tone came out with them.

Hermione caught it and she immediately shook her head to oppose. She briefly closed her eyes in an effort to really keep her tears away and again swallowed the ball stuck in her throat. And it was proving to be so difficult as she can foresee her olive-eyed best friend's heartache either way…

Then Ron intervened, "Harry, Hermione can't tell us, can't tell you especially, because she knows we would want to be involved and that would lead us into challenging Minerva for a duel."

"Don't be dramatic Ron." Harry laughingly responded and then finished with a jest. "We would just threaten Minerva not to hurt Mione or else the Golden duo will bring 'McGonagall' down."

The inopportune joke ultimately unlatched all Hermione's self control. She could no longer stop the tears and they poured out from her brown eyes with abandon, and shocked Harry very, very much. She ran her free hand over her face to get rid of them but it was no use, she was emotionally tripping down. Then she felt Ron's arms pulled her into a tight embrace and let her bury her face in his chest as she cries.

Hermione could not tell how long she was crying but after sometime she managed to control the tears. Then she felt Ron shifted her and heard him softly say, "Mione, just tell Harry…"

She nodded once and bit her lip to concentrate on words she never wanted to say to Harry but needed to….

"I couldn't tell you Harry… I didn't want you involved. Because… because the truth is… it's not something you would approve—"

"I so approve of you and Minerva—"

"Harry, please listen first." Hermione pleaded. "I… I love Minerva, Harry…" Hermione braved it and finally speak the painful truth for Harry to hear it, and also for herself. "And Minerva does not want it… She does not want my love… She does not need it... And Minerva doesn't love me back…"

"Are you telling me that you broke-up already?"

"No Harry. Minerva and I— we were never…" Hermione paused and tapped on her Gryffindor reserve to just ploughed through with the truth. "We can't break-up because there was no relationship to severe… Minerva and I were never really together…"

"You did not look like you're not together Mione."

"Harry, we do not have a relationship. Minerva and I would just get together— in bed. She does not want more than that. She told me, we can't afford it."

"Did she say that because of her position? Honestly, I understand the secrecy especially with after war timing and all… But I don't think she would worry about her Hogwarts post. Ginny said, and no I didn't tell her about you two, I just asked her in general about matters on same gender relationship. She said that although it's not that prevalent, it's also not frown here at the wizarding world, well compared to muggle one. And honestly, who would dare cross Minerva McGonagall...? Unless you're insane or have a death wish..."

"Harry… Listen…" Hermione clenched her jaw in tension. "That may be so... but for this case... Me and Minerva... That's irrelevant… Because Minerva... Minerva does not love me."

"Yes, she DOES. I can see that Minerva does… After I found you two at the lake, I had a year to observe and see how much she does love you. I mean, she's Minerva McGonagall— the woman is an epitome of subtleness and delicacy. It's common how her huge efforts are always unseen even if the effects are undoubtedly grand and encompassing. Still, knowing that 'you two are together' it was no longer difficult to see that you are not just anyone she cares for her in the general sense... That you are entirely special for her, and how she feels for you is only for you and you alone."

"Harry, don't you think I wish that too with all my heart? But it's not the case… The woman is merely hell bent fixing everyone. And I am one of those she knows who had been damaged during the war. So whatever she has done for me, it's just one part in the over-all scheme of things that she does as 'The Minerva McGonagall' in our world."

"No Mione. Don't say that. You mean a lot to her. I can feel it."

"Yes, like how George, or any Gryffindor, or any student, or once Hogwarts student, or any magical creature mean to her."

"No, no. And why are you so sure that she does not love you when I can see that she does?"

"I told her Harry that I love her. And she rejected it. You have no idea how frightened she was when I said 'I love you'. Like she wanted to find me a time-turner so that I could 'un-say' them back. She doesn't want it and did not object when I decided that our shagging session is over."

Harry winced at her last sentence. Afterwards, he ran one hand on his face to erase the consequential discomfit before he quietly said, "Mione, do you really think that Minerva would ever come to you if you are not—"

"I came to her Harry." Hermione gathered her exploded emotions and decided to make Harry see her way.

She re-started her **explanation** and in fact began telling him from the time she realized she was in-love with Minerva out there on the run. She chronicled to him everything. From the first exclusive moment with Minerva after the battle of Hogwarts… Her rude awakening of who Minerva is at that dinner he refers as 'it descended on her'… And how she collapsed at Minerva's arms at the ruined grounds, how it led her to the golden opportunity to really get to know Minerva at the Manor. And the true reason why she splinched. She told Harry everything else that followed and circled back into the last time she was Minerva.

"You see Harry, Minerva would have told me she loves me that last time if she does… But she didn't… And I wish I wasn't so idiotic to have said those cruel words to her because I was in pain… I know I need her. I know I want her. I know I love her. And I would still say yes to her, to the same limited capacity she would extend to me... Say yes to her— even though she does not love me…"

"I am so sure she does love you Mione... Minerva is just— too unsure how to tell you… And besides did you directly ask her? Maybe you just need to ask her… Maybe now that you're having a baby, she will be forced to—"

"That's the point Harry." Hermione gritted her teeth in mixture of exasperation and hopelessness. "I don't want to force it to Minerva because that would be unauthentic and it will only hurt more! I rather get her the way she would let me… intermittent when she could… when she wants me… At least I know she wants me of her own decision… Because to ask and be rejected again…. No. No… No… Please… That's too… sad… and painful… and idiotic… and utterly—"

"But Mione you cannot stay at your current arrangement-non-arrangement anymore. You two are about to have a kid…" Harry argued.

"I am having a kid." Hermione responded and felt that she just waded into the next phase of her **explanation**.

"Don't tell me you're not telling Minerva about the baby?" Ron's speculating question caught her.

"You cannot NOT tell Minerva!" Harry almost screamed at her. "Mione, that's impossible."

"Forget impossible, that's bloody mad!" Ron joined half-screaming at her.

"The moment news get out that you're pregnant, Minerva would know she's the one who got you pregnant." Harry said almost panicked. "And she would be very angry at you… at us… If you don't tell her before everyone finds out-"

"No Harry, no one would know know of my child's other parent. Minerva would not know the baby is hers… I mean..." Hermione felt the clamping in her heart. "No one has gotten pregnant only with plain transfiguration. Believe me, I know with all the transfiguration books I've read, and some more I delved into the last two weeks when I found out I'm pregnant."

"That's what I wanted to say earlier Harry… That I know that magic has limitation… That transfiguration cannot change human's nature… I heard Bill and Charlie once discussed the subject. That transfiguring a dragon into a dog is more possible." Ron stated disbelievingly.

"Actually Ron, transfiguring dragon is doable but very, very difficult. But human nature… while there were two ancient transfiguration cases were women who… you know… who wanted to have a baby did so... Both cases were a permutation of transfiguration and equally intricate magic of potions taken by the partners… But Minerva knows we didn't do that… No potion taken... We only did the transfiguration where she wielded the magic for the transfiguration."

"So Minerva McGonagall is rightfully the top transfiguration master?" Ron asked with palpable admiration and Hermione bit back a smile despite her predicament.

"You have no idea Ron how much transfiguration prowess she is." Hermione responded, remembering how the woman beat the mastery ALL practical exams and still have time for an afternoon tea.

Proudly she wanted to tell her best friends about Minerva's power without breaking confidence so she deliberated which ones she can reveal. "Have you ever wonder how she got her first Order of Merlin?"

"I asked her that. She said it was from Grindelwald war. When I asked for details, she said I would eventually figure it out…" Harry answered.

"Her war records were sealed for a long time. Because in it, it would reveal that Minerva at just age 14 got signed herself into the mission and the Ministry allowed her because her transfiguration skill was the lacking essential piece. That it did draw out Grindelwald for the entrapment where Dumbledore bested him in a duel.

"WOW" Ron gasped. "Then that meant—"

"Yes, she was at that blood bath Ron." Hermione supplied Ron's correct deduction.

"WOW. And she lived to tell, or rather not tell her survival of one of the deadliest open fight at that age! Mom always said that she's really powerful, except that she is one of the very few who've never seen the importance of having her name associated with power." Ron expressed with clear awe.

"She is not too keen on displaying her power Ron… And she hates attention… So imagine how much she hates getting attention because of her natural power… But she is truly powerful and I didn't even realised it, not until after the Hogwarts battle…"

When they were students, Hermione immediately knew that Minerva is a very skillful witch especially when she started reading about the woman. But often times, the narrative lacked the grandeur of the witch's accomplishments… And if not for the combination of the war, the after war, and that fateful night that Seventh of May, she would still probably undermine how powerful Minerva is…

"She is powerful. Possibly the most powerful witch right now, and you think you can hide the baby from her?" Harry cut in and brought her to their grave discussion.

"Harry is right Mione." Ron concurred.

"She can't know. Please… I can't risk her rejecting our baby… It's different when she rejects me, I can endure it because I... I... Because I am truly bloody fucking in-love with her… I would accept any scarp she throws at me… But no, that can't be the case with our baby."

"Lets say Minerva is not the brilliant witch that we know that she is, that she doesn't elect to connect the rare possibility of your transfiguration tryst on how you got pregnant, don't you think that she would count the months between your 'shagging' and when you give birth, and not suspect that she gotten you pregnant?"

Harry is now spitting harsh words to ask the hard questions, and Hermione's guts are being twisted as he throws them…

"I don't know Harry... But that last time I was with her, I spat some nasty words at her… Including that I… I implied that I'm sleeping with another… Maybe it will give her enough reason not to suspect."

"Bloody hell Hermione!" Ron sputtered. "You're mad. And you do know how to be cruel when you are hurting…"

"I'm not proud of that Ron… But maybe it's for the best that Minerva thinks I've been with someone else, that gave me the room for the doubt... Somehow I've learned who Minerva is, and I don't think she would confront me about who I've slept with… Also, she would never ask me directly or anyone else if she has gotten me pregnant, thus she won't know…"

"Would you ever tell your kid that her other parent is the most powerful witch?"

Again, Harry with his gut-wrenching question.

"And would you ever tell Minerva that she is no longer the lone McGonagall?"

Rather, gut-wrenching question **s** …

"I… I don't know Harry… But I know that it's not today. I need time…" Hermione started and reached for Harry's hand. "I know you have a perfect happily ever after picture in your head of me and Minerva, but Harry… Sometimes, things are not perfect…"

Hermione can feel in her bones how she is breaking Harry's heart… For the disintegration in her own heart also worsened… But she has to get out the ugly things that fastened severely in this predicament of getting involved with Minerva McGonagall…

"Harry, have you really considered how the talk would be in our society if people find out that 'THE HEADMISTRESS' and 'THE GOLDEN BRAIN" are gays… and shagging… Maybe Ginny is right that it's not discriminated here. But think about the first thing that people would think of WHO Minerva is to me... That I am— was her student... Some would think Minerva touched me when I was still a student and that would land her into trouble… While others would think my grades were favored and that would land me into trouble…"

"But they are absolute lies—"

"It does not matter Harry, it will cause rift. You know that it will... And we just came out of a bloody war; we don't need scandal that involved someone prominent like Minerva… She's cementing everything and everyone right now. If her reputation would be questioned, there's no telling how our weak society would collapse… You know what I am saying is true and relevant. And Minerva does not need another mess to fix. She does not need nor deserve the headache and the probable castigation. She doesn't deserve that after everything she has done for all of us. And I would never put her into such. In fact, I would do everything to keep her away from any harm. Even if that means loving her from a far. Or loving her without it being returned."

"That's not fair for you Mione… And for Minerva… What if— how could you have a chance for happiness that you deserve?"

She heard Harry's aching words and she managed a sad smile before she responded, "Maybe I would have it someday..."

"You deserve it now. You deserve it yesterday. And so as Minerva." Harry argued lovingly. How could she not love him when more for his love for her is overly expressed as such. But right now, although ironically, she has to be the voice of reason for Harry, and without sounding like it's a surrender.

"You know Harry, sometimes when I longed so much for Minerva and I am being attacked with memories of her rejections… sometimes I tell myself that perhaps Minerva does want me more than she allows. Except that she is nobler that I could ever understand— that she can put duty and responsibilities before her own wants, every time, and all the time… And I remind myself that that is precisely why I love her… That she is that kind of a woman. And how I would love no one but her… And you both know me and thus know how this is true for me. "

"Mione, that's bloody intense... and kinda screwed... And romantic... Romantically screwed." Said Ron in a low and depressing voice.

Hermione let out a small smile at Ron's words, "Told you Ron, it is what it is…" Then her voice shook as she entreated. "And I need your support Ron… Harry… more than ever as I am truly having this baby…"

Harry reached to her and kissed her on one cheek as he assures her, "You don't have to ask that love… We'll be the baby's other parents… god parents… uncles… whoever you want us to be for the kid…"

Hermione tears started forming in her brown eyes but there is one thing she has to ask from her best friends…

"Harry… Ron… Do you swear it? Will you protect and be there for the baby? Will you make the Unbreakable Vow?"

Harry had his hand clasped Hermione's and his other drew his wand to do the bond. After a second, Ron extended also one of his hands and joined theirs.

"Harry… Ron… Will you be my baby's godfather who would care for her/him like your own child?"

"I will." Answered Harry and Ron at the same time.

A thin line of flame issued from Harry's wand and wound its way around their linked hands.

"Harry… Ron… Will you protect my child to the best of your ability?"

"I will." Said Harry and Ron.

A second line of flame shot from the wand and attached itself to the first one, making the blaze even more.

"Harry… Ron… Will you guard the truth of my child's other parent to the best of your ability? Even to that other parent?"

"I will" Said Ron.

Harry on the other hand drew a deep breath and locked eyes with Hermione's before he answered, "I will."

A third string of flame released and wrapped around the earlier two. It increased the blaze further. And for a moment, it had the three best friends' faces solemn expression reflected in heightened imagery.

When the flame was gone, a new profound bond is amongst them. Hermione collected her emotions and uttered her hearty appreciation.

"Thank you. I love you both so much… I am forever thankful about that troll incident. Because of it, I have amazing best friends— brothers…"

"We love you too Mione." Ron draped one arm on her and kissed her on the cheek. "And we love you back then even when you were a sufferable know it all …" and he added, "Sometimes, until now…"

The Golden Trio laughed and Harry also came closer and hugged her too. And when they let go, they knew that they needed not make the vow. Hermione knew that Harry and Ron do not need any unbreakable bond because the two will care and protect her baby… As certain as she will protect Harry's son (James) and Ron's future ones to the best of her ability… Because that is who they are to each other… When you can overcome a powerful evil wizard, there isn't much left that you can't wrestle together…

Ron's stomach grumbled. Harry snorted and Hermione proceeded to serve their delayed dinner. It was a good dinner and they had a healthy laugh at the outrageous ideas on how they are going to 'protect' Hermione from the incoming 'talk of the town'… They knew they have time before they have to be really serious about it and opted for the serious talk some other time. But they could not help but started planning for Hermione's pregnancy, and Harry was all adorable re-telling his friends his 'experience' when Ginny was carrying James. He re-told all his panic moments during the actual birth that had them laughing…

Before they knew it, it was late and Hermione was shooing his best friends to go home but the two decided to crash at her flat. Immediately, they arranged sending the information of their unplanned sleep over at Hermione's to their respective homes.

Eventually, they were settled down at Hermione's living room turned sleeping camp. Ron swiftly fell asleep and started snoring that had Hermione and Harry in a fit of laughter…

"Some things never change…" Harry quipped before he casted a spell to remove the sound of Ron's snoring.

Silence descended at her flat afterwards and when Hermione could not fall asleep right away, she replayed her conversation with her best friends in her head… When she muffled her cry at the emotional night that she had, she was surprised when Harry pulled her into a hug.

"It's okay Mione. We're here. And we'll be there every moment. We promised you."

"I know Harry…. I am really thankful… And Harry, I'm sorry. I know this thing between me and Minerva, especially our deception is painful to you… Please, please don't think that you have to choose… I mean spending not time with Minerva because of your loyalty with me... Don't do that. You can't withdraw from Minerva because of me… She would never admit it but she needs you… And you need her, I know… She really looks at you like family and I know you love her as such."

In the darkness, she heard him sigh before he said, "It hurts not because you did not tell me… I honestly get your tendency to keep things. It wasn't long ago that I was like that so much… And I am not foolish to think that Minerva would tell me about you two. What hurts is the fact that I can't do anything about it… And I understood also why you told me what you told me at the Burrow's kitchen."

"Harry, that was cruel and—"

"But also true Mione."

"I was—"

"It was true. It is true. I have to stop playing hero… Especially with your personal life… But you really have become my sister."

"And you are my brother Harry."

"Do you realise that you and Ron, and actually Minerva have stayed far longer in my life in its truest sense than anyone else…? I mean, I've stayed 11 years at Privet Drive but the number of precious moments with my Aunt, Uncle and Cousin are really handful… So it's hard, hard when I can't get you and Minerva a happy ending… It is painful."

"I'm sorry Harry..."

"Me too Mione... But you do know that I'm going to keep my vow with or without bond magic… And yes, I will not, I do not want to remove myself from Minerva… I also love her... Of course not the way that you do. I do NOT want to shag her."

"Harry!" Hermione softly chuckled at Harry's small teasing.

"Yea, yeah..." Harry chuckled too. Then afterwards issued a deep sigh, "But you are right, she really is my family, you know... That night, when she stepped in front of me against Severus, we both know it was not out of duty, or even about good versus evil, that she was going to defend me- Harry. Just Harry. Not just the supposed boy who lived."

"She always saw you as a family, Harry. She told me how she wanted to get you when you were a baby."

"Really?"

"But I think she doesn't know how to be a family that time, and mostly too beaten from that first Voldemort war. You know it did cost her last family members, and too many friends to count."

"I wish I was there for her."

"Me too..." Hermione whispered as her mind recalled of the other things that Minerva told her of her sufferings during that war. And after sometime, she thought Harry had finally drifted to sleep but then she heard him issued another hard question, probably one of the hardest…

"Hermione, what are we going to do when your baby comes out with those distinguished impossible emerald eyes?"

That indeed would need an **explanation**.

* * *

**End of Chapter 9 | Year 2000**

**The Explanation**

* * *

* * *

_Do you dislike that Harry knew all along about Hermione and Minerva?_

_Or it made sense?_

_Let me know?_


	26. Seventh Commemoration and Accidental Magic

**Year 2005 | 4** **th** **Seventh of May**

**Five years later**

* * *

_"Hermione, what are we going to do when your baby comes out with those distinguished impossible emerald eyes?"_

_That indeed would need an explanation._

* * *

Department of Magical Law Enforcement Hermione Granger knew that the volume of the latest round of laughter coming from their group was too much to not garner notice. But honestly, she isn't entirely concern for the racket they are producing; many others who are in the same Ministry Ballroom are also quite clamorous within their own mini cluster. After all, they are agreeably assembled for the commemoration of the last ended war, like they have had, for the last 7 years.

In some ways, when their society ceremoniously started picking up the cluttered pieces of their lives during that afternoon of 7th of May in Year 1998, at a ruined Hogwarts ground, five days after Harry defeated Voldemort, it quintessentially marked May 7 with such reverence. Moreover, the Ministry had even started to regard the commemoration as fitting annual affair to carry out official pronouncements of major vicissitudes.

As a matter of fact, in year 2003 when Hermione made the decision to leap from Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures (RCMC) to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement (MLE), she could not convince Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt and MLE Head Jinn Leroy to exclude the public announcement during the 5th Year Commemoration.

Truthfully, she recognized the merit in wielding her popular _Golden Trio_ heroic war role as she was introduced into her new Ministry role. She was cognizant that the substantial public backing she gets from the Ministry would afford certain advantages in lobbying reformations, never mind that she mentally cringes at the political-drama spectacle.

During her three years stay at the Department of RCMC, Hermione truly made a name for herself other than 'Harry Potter's best friend Golden Brain' label. She had revolutionized advocacies that are collectively constructive amongst beings, beasts and spirits.

RCMC introduced countless immersions that began redefining and enlightening many outdated concepts, which are mostly the root causes of the perpetual prejudice. Unfortunately, there are aspects in which the Department is still coming short. For one, they could not make a dent against the deeply rooted injustice of elves in their world, as elves themselves are unintentionally active party of the wrongness.

In one of her dinner dates with her best friends, Hermione was ranting her frustrations about the injustice of it all. Harry candidly pointed out the limitation of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures in terms of legislation involving Humans. He threw in the idea that maybe she needs to get a _craftier_ operation for their RCMC programs by establishing collaboration with MLE, since the latter has the jurisdiction in passing and dispensing justice for all…

The idea was rather brilliant. Hermione conceded that no matter how worthy the objectives of Regulation and Control are, they are sometimes restricted by the Department's very nature. Indeed, there are some things that would never materialize with mere encouragement. That without full power of the law, they would only get improvements but not enforcement... She had kissed Harry's forehead for his wonderful insight and then as soon as she drafted her initial design for alliance, she secured a meeting with Jinn Leroy. The wizard is the popular Head of MLE, and the boss of Harry's boss in the Auror Division.

But Harry, nor Ron, or even Hermione herself, could not have imagined the extremely brief dialogue she had with Jinn Leroy during the said meeting—

" _Ms. Granger, I already took a good run through of your proposal. And my answer is that why don't we get your brain transferred to level two of the Ministry…?"_

" _I beg your pardon?"_

" _It is time for you to join MLE. Then you could get your brilliant mind to craft and endorse changes, bloody charm or bloody force the bloody Wizengamot into passing relevant promulgations… I am certain you can integrate the unpopular but vital RCMC agenda you are unsuccessfully promoting these years in MLE."_

" _I can't get it done in RCMC?"_

" _You know you can't. Otherwise, we are not having this meeting."_

The frank counter-offer caught Hermione completely off-guard. First and foremost, she had thought she would spend more years in RCMC before she would venture into another department, well, honestly, into MLE.

" _Ms. Granger, do transfer to MLE and get them done. And many more we ought to accomplish... Merlin knows how many others we humans have to be lawfully compelled with, for no reason other than to emerge as better civilization than we are. Otherwise, we might find ourselves fighting another deranged dark spellbinding chauvinists wizard."_

Hermione's quick brain had grasped the certitude of such pronouncements. And she cannot deny the real break that is being presented to her.

" _If you don't mind the dip in the title, the MLE Deputy post is yours."_

Yes, technically it is a downgrade from a Department Head. Although Hermione was generally tagged as an over-achiever, especially back when she was a student, it was never about self-victory. And most importantly, it was never about a damn title. Being a Ministry employee since Year 1999, she is fully aware of the clout of MLE. To be its deputy would give her a better platform to bridge the limitation of those she would never accomplish despite holding the headship of Regulation and Control.

" _I also need someone who would last for more than 12 months in the job."_

It was a common knowledge within the Ministry that Jinn Leroy has been going through series of appointment and discharge of Ministry officers for the said Deputy post. And the notion of possibly the next 'hired and fired' MLE Deputy went through Hermione's head.

" _As you have probably deduced, I, or rather the MLE is unable to keep one since I have assumed its headship. Now you're wondering if it would be a career misstep for you to accept the post, especially with the last one who just lasted for pitiful 3 months."_

Hermione could not help but release a snort at the wizard's words. And simultaneously raised her hand in gesture of contrition upon seeing Jinn's raised eyebrow. For few moments, they regarded each other in silence, both making mental assessment. Then the veteran wizard went on to set the final slay.

" _Do you mind me calling you Hermione? And please, call me Jinn."_

" _Alright, Jinn."_

" _See. Quick like that. Take the post Hermione... You do have plans of moving into MLE, regardless that you have not intended it to be now... We both damn know that you're not lacking in qualification. You're not regarded the wisest witch of you age for nothing. And most of all— I hear that Hermione Granger is no quitter…That NO-IMPOSSIBLE-TO-FIND-HORCRUX can make her lose her sight with what needs to be done..."_

Oh, Jinn Leroy is good. Bloody good… And that was that, Hermione made the jump to MLE.

Two years as MLE Deputy, the decision was attesting to be the right call. Such as the case of passing a particular decree closest to Hermione's personal crusade— The Act for the Welfare of Elves, mostly referred by its shortcut, _'The AWE'_.

The AWE is a severe grown-up version of Hermione's SPEW. It went through countless consultations and rigid campaigns amongst elves and magical people, with many versions written and revised, before a win-win draft was finally endorsed, and consequently signed into legislation. To be precise, as far as official record, it was signed into law just three days ago. Hence, the 7th Commemoration tonight will highlight _'The AWE'._

Also happening tonight is the formal introduction of the latest batch of Aurors who finished their probationary period. It accounts for the extra number of attendees at the Ministry ballroom… Despite the seemingly delay in the opening of the commemoration, no one is really minding it. No one is giving a fuss that the Minister is still held in some last minute meeting with the Wizengamot members. Everyone is simply enjoying the jovial atmosphere at the banquet.

Another barrel of laughs has erupted amongst Hermione's company, whose names are Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Ginny Weasley Potter, Hestia Jones Shacklebolt, Audrey Weasley, Angelina Johnson Weasley, Neville Longbottom, Susan Bones, and George Weasley. And because they have George holding the court with his anecdotes, it was rather impossible for them to not explode into considerable merriment.

Their latest outburst had prompted Hermione to subtly check around them, again. This time, she saw the arrival of her boss, Jinn Leroy, together with senior members of the Wizengamot, followed by the Minister's Chief of Staff, Gil Williams, though no Minister himself yet.

She watched Gil breakaway from his companions and headed towards their group when he caught sight of their huddle. Hermione surmised that the meeting that noticeably ran long was finally over. Shacklebolt Kingsley is shortly to appear and have the official programme commence.

"It was so wicked," George enthused in his narrative, effectively returning Hermione's full attention at the chattering within her group.

"What is wicked?" Gil Williams intersected as he just reached the group, and making small gestures of greeting.

"Oh, you would want to hear this."George enormously beamed at the question before finishing to addressing it. _"_ That the _VERY_ _FIRST MAGIC of—_ James Sirius Potter was to almost give his _VERY FAMOUS_ father— Harry Potter…a some kind of a heart attack!"

At George's overplayed comical account, Hermione found herself genuinely chuckling. But what actually amused her was the adorable blush that sported by the target of George's antics, none other than her best friend, Harry Potter. When she caught his olive eyes, she gave him a wink, which made him shake his head but nonetheless laughed at himself.

Hermione already knew the story, but she gladly listened to George with his colorful narration. He was telling the story of how the Potter's latest broom, the Firebolt version 2005 had broken out from its magically locked compartment, and whooshed towards his nephew, James Sirius Potter. Apparently, the toddler accidentally summoned it. But the extra wicked part that George was emphasizing about was the incident of Harry falling down the stairs as he physically raced against the broom, and absolutely forgetting that he could have used magic.

"Imagine," George affectionately draped one arm over Harry and not holding back in his ribbing, "Here is an exceptional wizard, who once disposed a powerful evil, suddenly falling into a mad mishap, from an **accidental magic** … by his less than six-year old kid!"

The exaggeratedly dramatized story's finale was accompanied with props from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. George released one of their latest ingenious product inspired from the very same story. It was a simple tube that upon taking out its cap, it transformed into an incorporeal twelve-inch miniature broom, which discharged and ignited at Harry's head. George's antics caused them another round of laughter, especially as Harry fought over his heightened blushes.

When a bit of the laughter had died down, Hestia asked, "The kid is just six years old, right?"

"Actually, James won't be six until August." Ginny, the proud mother, stated with unmistakable pleasure.

"And he's already having accidental magic? Wouldn't that be considered too early." Hestia appraised. "If I recall correctly, mine first manifested when I was seven years old."

Ginny nodded, "Mine was about a month after I turned seven. And my mother said that all my brothers first exhibited magic around that age too."

Ron and George motioned in confirmation before Gil Williams told them that he had gotten his first display of magic exactly on the morning of his seventh birthday. He earned laughs as he narrated that it happened because he was too impatient to get to his birthday presents. He was hurrying to eat breakfast when he accidentally vanished their family dining table.

"Isn't 7 years of age the official age of when kids started having accidental magic?" Hestia asked.

"Then as a kid, I was very late on that." Angelina bemoaned, "I did not show magic not until I reached ten." She proceeded to reveal that her mother was a bit worried that she would be non-magical, because she wasn't displaying accidental magic.

Neville good-naturedly waived off Angie's lamentation. "My grandmother pestered me for not showing magic not until about a month before I got my Hogwarts letter. I was readying with the idea of how she would send me to live in a Muggle world if I never display magic."

"Neville, a person's name of our kind would appear under the official record of Magical population when born. Regardless if they would exhibit accidental magic or not." Said Audrey Weasley.

"I know. But when you're a kid growing up with my grandmother, you tend to doubt so many things…" Neville replied with genuine lightheartedness as he had outgrown most of his uncertainties. "Anyway, I actually wanted to share that I learned from Professor Flitwick that there is no official age on accidental magic. The notion of 'age seven' for first accidental magic is from informal collection. Therefore, there is no delayed accidental magic as well."

"That is correct, Neville." Said Susan Bones. "Plus, many have known of stories of 7-year-old kids accidental magic here in our world, which is why the 'age seven' sticks. Take Ginny and her brothers. But many forget that it excludes muggle-borns' first accidental magic. For obvious reasons, they don't know _it_ yet for them to keep track of it."

"I suppose…" Angelina acknowledged. "But would it be fair to say that we don't hear much of kids' accidental magic younger than 7 years old?"

"You can say that" responded by Neville. "It is incredible for James to summon at age 5."

"Yes. Fairly!" Ginny smilingly responded. "But, as much as incredible it is— James' early magic—" she paused before she sent their group's attention towards Hermione with a wave, "What is more incredible is her daughter's magic."

"Your daughter is displaying magic already?" Neville asked incredulously as she turned to Hermione. "But didn't she just turned four last December?"

"Err, yes, she has. And yes, she's four." Hermione mumbled and she knew where the conversation would be heading, and has no idea how to divert into something else without being plain evasive.

Ginny who is oblivious of Hermione's internal struggle, actually went on to say, "That is not even the most astonishing part. She was already displaying magic when she was just a baby!"

With what Ginny had said, a quick and non-verbal exclusive exchange commenced across three best friends. With brief unseen reproaching glares from Hermione to the boys, and Harry returning it with a contrite face, it settled the matter of who told Ginny.

"Woah! Do tell!" George excitement is palpable and before Hermione could decide on what to tell them, Ginny replied to his brother.

"You didn't know?" Ginny was genuinely stunned to have learned that George has not heard the story. She probably thought that Ron would have given the info to him already. Well, Ginny didn't know that apart from the Trio, she is the only one who knows about it. Hermione suddenly wanted to jinx Harry for it, and her best friend probably had sensed it, he mouthed a _'Just Proud'_ , and gave her a small assuring grin.

Hermione internally sighed and let go of her initial reaction. She isn't truly angry that Harry told Ginny. She is not even surprised that he would tell his wife. Understandably, it was basically harmless to share it with Ginny. Plus, she believes that Harry is simply proud of her daughter, the same manner she feels about James Sirius Potter.

"I didn't realise—" Ginny hanged her words before shooting Hermione a small signal to know if she could proceed to tell the rest. Hermione gave her a smile before nodding in accord…because to do otherwise would just raise questions.

Hermione heard Ginny began telling the group an abridged version of her daughter's accidental magic. And then she couldn't help but silently recall her own memories...

It was one morning in April of 2001. Hermione had a fright when she found her four-month-old daughter much awake and playing with her stuffed toys. Surely, a playing baby is nothing to fear; except for the fact that the very same toys were the ones that Hermione had put away the night before— where she had placed on the shelves… The very shelves located across the room, which was certainly beyond the baby's reach.

Hermione could only guessed that her daughter had wielded an accidental _summoning charm_. How else? She refused to consider any other reason. Besides, she triple checked and knew that her wards have not been overridden by anyone without her knowledge, most especially not by a proficient witch, nor literally bypassed by a cat with notable markings. Hence, she was convinced that it was daughter's magic she missed witnessing at hand.

Then few weeks after that incident, Hermione finally testified her daughter's magic. As a matter of fact, she knew that it happened on the 7th of May 2001, four years to date.

That early morning, Hermione was alerted that one of the set charms had gone off, she rushed from the kitchen to a bedroom with much concern. Just after entering, sparks of magic in front of her widened her chocolate eyes before they turned into absolute endearment, laced with overwhelming amusement. When she stepped further into the room, another pair of eyes with exact likeness of Hermione's chocolate ones, turned on her. The owner is none other but **Rose Esmerauld Granger McGonagall.**

"Alright sweetheart," Hermione lovingly murmured as she hunched down to pick up her baby from the floor. "It is very much noted that you got your _OTHER_ mother's prowess…"

Hermione's mixed awe and apprehension displayed on her face. The cause is nothing less than essentially witnessing her daughter's exhibit of **accidental magic**.

In response, the small human bundle of joy toothlessly adorned Hermione's signature Cheshire grin. However, the adorable baby chuckles that sounded off had sent Hermione's heart to skip a beat. She could swear, somehow, she heard _Minerva McGonagall_ in them. Hermione shook her head in disbelief and lightheartedly rebuked her daughter with showered kisses.

"I hope you also inherited her trademark of subtlety and impeccable discipline. Otherwise darling, you're going to cause me a lot of trouble."

At the further grinning that Rose gave her in return, Hermione heartily laughed. "Oh definitely, A LOT, LOT, LOT of trouble!"

"What did she do this time?" The question came from her best friend-the-boy-who-lived, who expectantly appeared in her home.

"Good morning, Harry."

Harry kissed her in greeting, reached and took hold of her baby, then playfully asked, "What did Rose Esmerauld Granger McGonagall do this time?"

"Harry, I told you not to—"

"What? Call her by her full name…? She's still a baby Mione, I doubt she understands us at the moment." Harry interrupted her concern, of indeed about using Rose full name.

"But—"

"And no one else is here except us." He interrupted her again. "And this new flat of yours can rival the wards of Gringgots." He finished with tone that left with no room for argument.

Hermione internally sighed. She knew that she went excessive in setting her wards, bordering of employing slight unorthodox magic. Ron even teased that her flat is just lacking a dragon and she is all set. Truly, she made sure that no one could ever enter the place without her knowledge and permission. The exception was extended only to her two best friends, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. And only after the boys smartly won their debate by citing emergence purposes. In effect, the two have unlimited pass.

"You know what I meant Harry…" She feebly countered, and proceeded to recite that she simply does not want any mishap, like him unknowingly using her daughter's complete name in public, nothing short of announcing to the world that she is Minerva McGonagall's daughter. That _Rose Esmerauld Granger_ **—** has _McGonagall_ for her true surname.

"You know I WON'T." Harry maintained. "And the unbreakable vow will not let me—even if I try…"

Hermione ran a hand over her face to ease her tension. She knew that she's over-reacting. She knew that Harry is correct. And she knew that they have been down this argument several times already. And knew that Harry is being overly patient about it in order to ease her misgivings. She watched Harry shrugged at her in dismissal of her worry, and then redirected his attention to the baby in his arms. She heard him returned to his earlier question.

"Mione, what did this little special witch do?"

Hermione let out a sigh before saying, "Just before you arrived, the crib alarm sounded off. So I ran in here as fast as I could, and I found her out of crib already, on the floor, with her toy.

"WHAT…?" Harry gasped. "She charmed the crib's railings away?" He looked at the crib, which is in perfect order, "Did she put it back, and safely lowered herself onto the floor?"

"Merlin knows! I'm just glad that she didn't get hurt… But yeah, that would be my guess."

"HAH! She got your talent in charms."

That earned a genuine smile from Hermione, which turned into a full grin and sparkles reflected in her eyes as she raised a stuffed-toy lion to Harry, and then stated quite proudly, "This was the stuffed toy OTTER you gave her last month."

Olive eyes bugged in marvel, "She transfigured it into a lion?"

"Yea. The transfiguration was just happening as I entered the room." Hermione answered with her grin widening even more and threatening to split her face.

"So, she can charm and transfigure already?"

"Harry, clearly it's accidental."

"And maybe— Rose McGonagall can also apparate. Maybe that's how she got herself out of her crib?" Harry offered in delight and grinned back at Hermione.

Hermione laughed at his amplified remarks, "That's over the top Harry."

"A baby using summoning charm and transfiguring a toy is not over the top?" Harry retorted teasingly.

Hermione laughed again at Harry's words and expression. She shook her head and said with incredulity, "I know, I can't quite believe how early we are seeing her accidental magic."

"I am almost envious for James. But then, given WHO your daughter is— I mean, one parent as the most talented witch I've known who saved my life countless times. And the other parent as 'the witch' to revere, Merlin knows what Rose can do when she grows up!"

A quaint sound from Rose Esmerauld Granger McGonagall startled both Hermione and Harry. Both adults exchanged looks that communicated how the baby seemed to understand the ongoing discussion, and wished to join the conversation.

"Oh Mione, I take it back! Rose has likely gotten your ability to comprehend everything. Not to mention she may already have your impeccable memory!"

"Harry—"

"Better devise a plan, now. I don't think you have many years to come up with an acceptable reason for hiding from her that she's a McGonagall."

"Harry, stop that."

"Well, with your perfect deductive reasoning and strong right hook, and then Minerva's zero tolerance of nonsense, my dear best friend, you better brace yourself with Rose's outrage once she finds on her own that she's a McGonagall. You need to—"

"Harry that's not funny! And really stop with the exaggeration."

"I wasn't trying to be. And it was not an exaggeration. Bearing in mind that—"

"Harry!" Hermione lightly smacked him. "

"Alright, maybe half funny—"

"Quit it Harry or—"

Hermione words halted, Harry's jaw dropped, as both got flabbergasted when Rose just exhibited another accidental magic… The plush lion toy (transfigured Otter) that Rose is playing with, just let out a convincing roar.

"FOR THE LOVE OF MERLIN!" Harry exclaimed after he picked up his jaw from the floor.

Coincidentally, it is almost the same exclamation that George Weasley had uttered, but much louder and much more colorful. "FOR THE BLOODY WICKED LOVE OF MERLIN!"

It effectively brought Hermione back, to the present, to the Ministry gathering for the 7th commemoration.

Hermione had quickly gathered that Ginny had completed her narration. Of more or less telling them about Rose's much too early transfiguration and charms **accidental magic**. Of course, minus all the parts about Rose's other parent.

"That is most extra-ordinary!" Gil made the comment, which was basically echoed by everyone in the group.

"I have never heard of accidental magic by baby." Said Hestia.

"Me either." Seconded by Audrey.

"My Aunt did." Susan started, "Of charming musical instruments to play while still at the crib. Charmed bagpipes, I think."

"Your Aunt charmed bagpipes when she was only a baby?" As Hermione heard Ron posted the question, a niggling feeling started at the pit of her stomach. And it intensified as the conversation progressed…

"Oh, I misspoke. Aunt Amelia told me a story of someone she knew who made bagpipes play while she was still a baby."

"Who?" Angelina asked the question, which most of them wanted to know.

"The Headmistress." Susan supplied in easy answer. "I believe Aunt Amelia and the Headmistress were friends and they've had been quite close when they were younger... But Aunt got the spill not from the Headmistress herself but from Headmaster Dumbledore. He told my Aunt that Minerva McGonagall happened to be mere months old when she had bagpipes playing all night long."

"Really, the Headmistress? That is wickedly wicked! I would have to ask her about it." George happily remarked, grinning wildly at discovering something about Minerva McGonagall. "Woah, I just had a flash of inspiration for our next product… On second thought, I'll create it exclusively for the Headmistress!"

"Years after Hogwarts and you're still pestering the Headmistress." Angelina lightly chastised her husband, before saying something that sent Hermione's guts into twister. "So now we know not only one, but two marvelous babies, who are waaay early with their accidental magic, your daughter Hermione, and Headmistress McGonagall.

"Speaking of the Headmistress," Audrey cut in as she gestured towards the entrance, "Here she comes with the Minister."

"I thought she's not attending. I mean, Professor Flitwick said the Headmistress was due to attend a personal matter." Said Neville.

"After missing the last couple of years, the Minister probably managed to convince her to finally show-up tonight." Remarked by Hestia.

To say that that niggling feeling inside Hermione had turned into blown F6 grade tornado is to put it mildly... For the first time in the last five years, after deliberate and unintentional circumvention, Hermione is now finding herself trapped in the same function with Minerva McGonagall. And all she could do is to beg Merlin to have no one mention her daughter (their daughter) near the woman, at least until she could bloody escape the bloody **Seventh Commemoration.**

* * *

**End of Chapter**

Year 2005 | Seventh Commemoration and Accidental Magic


	27. Hermione's Accidental Magic

**Year 2005 - 4** **th** **Seventh of May - Chapter 2**

**Continuation**

* * *

_For the first time in the last five years, after deliberate and unintentional circumvention, Hermione is now finding herself trapped in the same function with Minerva McGonagall. And all she could do is to beg Merlin to have no one mention her daughter (their daughter) near the woman, at least until she could bloody escape the bloody **Seventh Commemoration.**_

* * *

When Kinglsey Shacklebolt arrived, he immediately gave the green light to begin the program. As intended, the first part was all about the newly passed decree "The AWE".

Jinn Leroy spoke to the crowd of the promulgation as integral progress of their Wizarding world. He notably mentioned Hermione's name as the primary architect of such worthy course. When he went to underscore how relentless she had been that resulted win-win finality, she made sure to affix her countenance with a delicate balance of assuredness and modesty. Something she was surely beginning to perfect as she trudged forth in the labyrinth of politics in order to get things done.

Nevertheless, when Ron suddenly let out a loud whistle in sweet expression of adulation, she permitted herself a tiny grin at one of her best friends' antics. As she faintly shook her head at him in mock reproach, she heard the heartfelt applause everyone gave her, generally as affirmation for the words of commendation from Jinn Leroy.

Meanwhile, Harry gently jested to her ear, of how he would have to increase his Auror skills just to stave off her growing list of devotees, for he is certain that she will be gracing once again the front pages of their periodicals, including being hailed, for the Nth time, as The Sexiest Witch in the Wizarding World.

This time, the teasing from Harry had her softly chuckling. And in that moment of loosened sense of self-guardedness, her sight got drawn to one witch. Her heart stopped at the quick but unmistakable fervour that flashed in such distinguished pair of emerald eyes, directed at her.

"Oh Merlin, she's—" Hermione started murmuring words of captivation and simultaneously castigated herself, "No, stop you idiot."

Hermione realised that nothing has changed when she sees those emerald eyes. Well, if she'd be brutally frank about it, she simply confirmed to herself something she had always known— Still. And. Only. Minerva. In. Her. Heart.

But five years of navigating and controlling of utmost longing, enduring anguish, and intense discontent had molded Hermione with grit to maturity. And just like the exemplary student she had been, she has learned one art of adulthood like no other, which is self-preservation. And all at once, she had her walls up. She switched to a higher gear of _Hermione Granger Ministry Officer public persona_ and formally followed the rest of the program with a bit of detachment.

Much later when Kingsley Shacklebolt shook the hands of the newly ordained Aurors whilst he congratulated each of them, Hermione internally went through the wisdom of skipping the rest of the night versus the excuse she will be providing Jinn Leroy come by Monday for her sudden absence.

By three-fourths of an hour into the program, Kingsley led the remembrance of the fight against evil during the last war, and their responsibility to uphold the lessons and sacrifices. When he referred to the fallen, especially the ones at the Hogwarts battle, the crowd suitably sobered a bit. And then in no time, Kingsley called the official program over and wished them to enjoy the celebration.

Hermione turned to her best friends to tell them that she's now gunning to depart when Harry beat her.

"I know you're leaving." He quietly told her unspoken intent. "Let me just give Gin a word, then I'll go with you."

Before Hermione could form a response, Ron hushed to them, "You can't both leave. Shacklebolt would note of Hermione's early exit but he may not say anything. But if you also leave Harry, both of your sudden absence would really catch attention." Afterwards, Ron counter-offered, "But I can go with you, Mione. It is less obvious, obviously."

Hermione's heart tugged oh so tightly. She was reminded that she has the greatest of best friends. That nothing in this world can convince her that she did not win the lottery of best friendship.

Earlier when Audrey drawn their attention to the arrival of Minerva McGonagall with Kingsley Shacklebolt, Hermione's entirety shook for the absolute disinclination to be in the same room with the older witch. Contrary to the noise at the banquet that dramatically dropped when most of the crowd took notice of the Minister and the Headmistress appearance, the thundering of her heart radically escalated.

Nonetheless, as these initial seconds of distress were passing by, Hermione did not miss how Harry and Ron discreetly drifted to each of her side… as if to shield her from probable torment, which both have been doing in abundance for the last five years…

Following that night of 'explanations', of when Hermione admitted about being pregnant by Minerva, and of how she had entreated for their support as she intended to have the baby and keep the truth from everyone else, the golden trio friendship took another range of consummate devotion. From thereon, she could no longer count the number of times the guys purposely and literally dropped everything to be there for her.

When she journeyed to Australia to tell her parents, both Harry and Ron had insisted to accompany her. She rejected their offer and explained that she is planning to spend a week abroad and do not want them to miss as many days away from their jobs and families.

When Ron asked the reason for her decision to spend 7 days in Australia, she gave the explanation that in case her parents embrace her back into their lives, she did not want to return to London hurriedly. That she wanted to spend the week with her parents and to get to know their lives over there. At the same time, she thought of visiting the Aurors who helped in finding and guarding her parents. After all, one of those Aurors had become a friend.

Similarly, Hermione confessed to Ron and Harry that in the event that her parents permanently disown her once she comes out as gay and impregnated by a witch, she wanted to bear the heat, at least for the whole 7 days, to try and try to reconcile with her family.

Harry and Ron all the more pushed her to let them travel with her to Australia… Highly claiming of how it would be better for their peace of mind. That they are likely to worry so much while she is far away if they're not there for her, especially that she's pregnant. And so, off they went to Australia sometime in July 2000.

That day as they approach the house of Hermione's parents in Adelaide Australia, she almost broke Ron's forearm as she grabbed him to solicit some sort of support. Considering her strained relationship with her parents, simply put, she was terrified to the core that one of her assumption would be true… that the Grangers would be disgusted of Hermione and decisively cut all ties…

However, to her utmost surprise, and far from the dreaded reception she expected, she could not believe to see her mom, closely followed by her dad, barging out and reuniting with her, right there in front of the house, enveloping her in the tightest embrace. Something she had thought could only happen in movies.

"Hermione, sweetheart, we are so sorry. We are the worst parents for not truly listening to you. Please forgive us."

Those were Jean Granger tearful greetings at the front lawn. John Granger, also with welled up eyes, uttered words of how they are returning to London and just concluding their business in Australia, so they can be near Hermione.

It turned out that the Grangers finally realized their faults for not looking beyond Hermione's actions that actually protected their own lives. They told her that when they first received back their memories, along with the truth of the war and everything that had happened, it invoked immense fear and anger in them, of how they did not and cannot possibly protect their only child. The reality slapped them hard of how downright useless they are, for not being like Hermione— for being non-magical people.

Eventually they ushered inside the house and Jean Granger momentarily went to another room and came back with bunch of clippings that had not only Hermione gasped, but had Harry and Ron visibly stunned… Handed over to them by Mrs. Granger were cropped copies of Daily Prophet, Quibblers, and other missives that reported the atrocities of the last Wizarding war, which explicitly featured Hermione's heroic role in winning against Voldemort.

"Mom, why… where… HOW did you get these?" Hermione asked in an almost panting disbelief.

"Your professor paid us a visit last April."

"What… did you say…?"

To say that Hermione was unprepared for such answer would be an understatement. Hearing the word 'professor' sounded off like a rushing storm against her ears.

"Your professor brought them and told us that we better stop being fools."

_Minerva. Who else?_ Hermione inferred, and such immediate supposition supplied by her brain had her heart in outcry.

"Your father and I had been lectured, and deservingly so, of how we are failing to see how special you are, not only because you have magical abilities. But because without a doubt you are one of the bravest person in your world…that you literally placed your life in peril in order to fight evil…that despite possessing extreme intelligence to know that the odds of coming out alive is almost equal to none. You did not waver with your courage."

_Minerva. No one else. But Minerva._

The turmoil that exploded inside Hermione made it hard for her to say something… to ask something… for a confirmation… of which she was already grudgingly certain.

Perhaps Harry understood her inability to actually voice anything, or he too felt, to a degree, the conflict of already knowing the name of _the professor_ and what it meant to reach out to the Grangers. Notwithstanding the fact that the Grangers have in their possession of Wizarding items is a categorical breach of one of the sections of the Secrecy Law. But then again, there is this one witch who is powerful and influential enough in their world who can handle any repercussion.

"Mrs. Granger, who was the professor who visited you?" Harry finally gave voice to the unasked question.

"Professor McGonagall."

There. Jean Granger's plain response had left no room for misinterpretation.

And yet, Hermione had to ask, "Mom, are you sure?"

"Of course, sweetheart. Although, I did not recognise her right away, not with her wearing our clothes. I mean, she was not in your customary attire that you call robes. And by the way, NOW I know what you meant when you said that your kind would age slowly... But I would say that she is rather aging backwards… And…was she really that beautiful up close? I was unsure whether I couldn't just remember after so many years, or you know, she has magic make-up."

If her situation with the mentioned witch were anything but such tangled complications, Hermione would have probably rolled at floor with laughter for her mother's reference of 'magic make-up'. And most of all, at Harry's fallen jaw and Ron's red face after he let out a crisp, 'bloody hell'.

"I beg your pardon Mr. and Mrs. Granger, for errr… cursing." Ron instantaneous stammered his apology. "I just could not believe… of her decision… and actually traveling… and deliberately ignoring rules… and forgoing de-glamour charms… by the Headmistress and… and…"

Despite the entire unfinished sentences, Hermione perfectly understood what Ron was trying to say. And understood too of his utter bafflement. She is disconcerted as well for the actions taken by Minerva McGonagall. Her mother said the visit was paid last April. Why the hell the older witch did not mention to her when they were together last May? Was it because it was not something for Hermione from Minerva…? But part of _The-Great-Minerva-McGonagall's labor_ to fix the wrongs caused from the last war…? How could Hermione determine if the actions were from the woman who would bare oneself raw while in her arms, or from the all-too-important-witch mending everything in their world…? Why was McGonagall moving her world to be better, yet Minerva was roughly breaking her heart into thousand pieces?

Then Hermione vaguely heard her parents' inquiry, "She's now Hogwarts' Headmistress?"

Harry and Ron both nodded in reply. Further, Harry supplemented how the woman is the most qualified of all to head Hogwarts. He also mentioned that had Minerva McGonagall wanted, she could have taken the highest post of the wizarding version of their government for she has the competence and with unquestionable character.

"Oh, wow, we didn't realise she is that important in your world, and not just in your school. For one, she didn't bother correcting us with her title." Mrs. Granger informed them and then added, "But what you've just said," As she gestured to Harry, "somewhat explains how she dared giving these articles despite telling us it was illegal to do so."

_So, Minerva did tell her parents about the violation._

"Obviously, she reckoned we needed to see them. And she was right... Although, she did ask if we could keep it in confidence…even asked if we could refrain from telling you Hermione."

_And told them not to tell her. Classic Minerva._

"But Sweetheart," Jean Granger's intense brown eyes, directed the focus to the very similar pair of Hermione's. "Your father and I have discussed that if we want to reconcile as a family, we need to be honest with you. We agreed to be wholly open about how we came to understand the enormous harm we've committed against you… That we were practically shoved with these" Jean waved towards the missives, "for us to wake up."

Jean Granger's talk of honesty served as the dousing reminder that slapped Hermione. All at once, she was tossed into reality of how she could be losing her recently reunited family the moment she finished being completely truthful with them…

How could she tell them that the Hermione written in those news clippings was all gone? That the Hermione in front of them now is not at all that brave, nor that intelligent? That she is frightened to the core to tell them of something so fundamental about herself…. That she is that foolish to fall in love with one woman who cannot afford to love her back… The same woman who they know as her former professor— has gotten their daughter pregnant…

_Oh Merlin, how could she break her parents' hearts once again?_

"What is wrong, Hermione?" Her mother's much-concerned question penetrated her consciousness. And she was shocked to realise that she probably lapsed into prolonged uneasy silence. And even more shocked when she felt her mother wiped tears that she did not know that have started tracking down her face. "Just tell us Sweetheart. We'll listen to you this time."

"Mom, dad… You just said about honesty in our family and… and…"

_How could she get her parents back and just lose them in the same hour?_

Hermione had to pause. She seems incapable of getting the words out; the constriction in her throat was too severe... Plus the drumming in her heart had turned full rampage that she vaguely thought she would dangerously palpitate and drop dead. She concentrated so hard to gain the courage she desperately needed in order to get out the truth… But what is the truth…? How bloody hell can her muggle parents understand, more so accept and support her? This is insane. Everything is insane. And yet, this insanity is her life…

"Just begin anywhere Sweetheart."

It was the same old formulated words that Hermione used to hear from his father when she was a kid and had trouble explaining the jumble thoughts in her head, mostly because of disbelief of things that happened in front of her… It was the same gentleness from his father that would entice her into sense of open reception, and secured station that her parents would not fail her no matter what she reveals to them.

For some strange reason, her childhood safe phrase reminded her of that one incident when she was about 7 years old… pre-Hogwarts/ pre-wizarding consciousness…

She had gotten into a fight in the school ground earlier that day, of which she did not want to tell her parents. Not only because she knew they don't approved of fighting, but also knowing how the peculiar details of the fight were something she cannot explain. But her parents had guessed that something had happened, shortly after dinner, they sat her down. And then her father had said those words, in the same tone, she started spilling everything about the fight she had with other children.

Some mean kids teased her for reading too much, wherein one particular naughty kid snatched her book, the Notre-Dame de Paris copy that they gave her. And when the said kid did not want to return her book, she demanded it in anger. Hermione blabbered how the book flew back into her hands after she spoke the order. And how the leaves at the kids' feet turned into frogs that freaked them all, herself included, which ultimately dispersed the said fight. She recalled waiting for her parents to laugh hard at her story, or be scolded for the outrageousness of it all. But she was simply asked by her dad if she has told them everything.

" _I'm not lying."_

" _We did not say that Hermione."_

" _I did not make it up."_

" _We merely asked if you have told us everything about the fight."_

Confused with tears cascading her 7-year old face, she promised her parents that she had told everything… And to her surprised, her parents simply checked and re-checked that she didn't get hurt and then lovingly put her to bed…

Of course, no matter how bizarre that certain event in her young life, which in hindsight was apparently **Hermione's accidental magic,** she knew that it was nothing in comparison with what she was about to admit to her parents now…

Hermione considered abandoning her intent to tell the truth. But then she felt her mom's hand reached out to hers and did not let go. She swallowed the lump in her throat and in a voice that shook, she dove in with the admission, exactly in order of things she had them lined-up in her head…

_1— That she is gay._

_2— That she was involved and had fallen in love with a witch._

_3— That witch is none other than Minerva McGonagall. The witch who visited them last April. And no matter how beautiful or how aging backwards she might be, the woman is in fact, decades her senior._

_4—That the woman was her former transfiguration professor, former head of Griffindor House, and now the Hogwarts Headmistress, and the one witch who is front and center anchoring their recovering wizardng world…_

_5— And that involvement is regrettably nothing but a mere affair for Minerva. And that the affair is over._

_6— And she's now pregnant from that affair._

_7— And she would be hiding such pregnancy because apart from the fact that Minerva would not be involved with the baby, the pregnancy itself, even in the magical world, was one hell of an extraordinary kind of magic and she cannot fathom the ramification…_

At the end of Hermione's litany of confession, she could not hold back but beseech for understanding and acceptance from her parents. With cascading tears she could not help the extreme vulnerability and neediness she was enveloped with.

"Mom, Dad, please, please, don't disown me. I cannot—"

"So, you're pregnant? How far long are you Hermione?"

"What? About 9 weeks… Mom… Did you not hear—"

"Yes, you're gay… Did you already take some prenatal care?"

Afraid that her parents had failed to comprehend the crucial details of her revelation, she had to back-up and slowly repeat some of them.

"Mom, I am pregnant. By a witch. By Minerva. By her magic. By my guess, it was mostly by her uncharted magic. She is one of the handfuls with such potent magic. But she will not be part of this kid's life…"

"Why, Minerva doesn't want kids of her own? I highly doubt she disfavours children."

"Mom, it's not THAT…" Hermione momentarily closed her eyes to gather her wits and her emotions. The mixture of elation and stupefaction for the lack of negative outburst from her parents was making her consider that she was thrown into a spinning twilight.

"Mrs. Granger, if I may ask," Ron benignantly intersected, "With due respect, how are you not bloody flipped out about Hermione getting pregnant by another witch? Because I have known magic all my life, and I did not even know that there is that exceptional magic to make that…that…real between witches... And I did, flipped out, so much when Mione told us…"

Leave it to Ron to express one of Hermione's foremost concerns, in the most unsophisticated manner, and still deliver the point of the matter.

"Oh Sweetheart…" Mr. Granger this time took Hermione's hand and lightly demanded her utmost attention. "As we've said… after we got back our memories and drove you away, it was not _you_ that we could not accept back. It was our notion of _'you having magic should have exempted you from danger'_ … You see, when we first learnt of your ability when you got your Hogwarts letter, it was more of a relief."

"Relief? What do you mean?"

"When we found out that magic is real and that you are a _witch_ — believe us when we say that it turned our world-up-side-down. But it gave us a sense of closure for all the unexplained things that happened before we've known about your gift."

"What unexplained things?"

Jean Granger took over with the account and lovingly smiled at her daughter before she divulged, "Hermione, you have no idea how countless heart attacks I survived whenever I would find you magnetizing your toys through thin air. Or the many items that keep on mystically appearing and disappearing when you were a toddler…"

"What? I had so many cases of **accidental magic** as a kid? You never told me."

"We told you about your dead Rose plant that phenomenally bloomed after you cried and cried in front of it."

Yes, she knew the story. But she knew it not from memory but from hearing its narration from her parents. She was too young to actually remember the incident. And she was told of the story only after she got her Hogwarts letter, and how they said it finally made sense to them. But a dead rose plant blooming because of **Hermione's accidental magic** is far from the multi-intricate circumstance of being impregnated by one Minerva McGonagall, and she had to lay down her cards once and for all.

"Mom, Dad, I have to know… Are you going to disown me, now that you know that I am gay? And pregnant by a witch? And I would be a single mother, not to mention hiding the fact from Minerva and the whole Wizarding world...about the baby?" Hermione sputtered her issues and then held her breath.

"Listen Hermione, we were wrong to push you away after we found out that you once wiped our memories, even after being told that it was for our protection… But we will not commit the same mistake of abandoning our only daughter. For what, because your gender partner preference is not typical? You are a witch for heaven's sake, nothing is typical about you…"

The liberation from within Hermione was unexplainable. Tears escaped her eyes in gladness at her parents' words of acceptance. Then she heartily laughed when her Mom addressed Ron's earlier remarks.

"That is why we are not 'bloody' flipping out… Besides, several of these articles have mentioned Hermione being the _Wisest witch of your age_ ; she may not have gotten her magic from us, but Sweetheart, where do you think you got your impeccable deductive reasoning? Also, both you and Harry already mentioned Minerva as someone with paramount magic, why would we not think she can't get you pregnant when it's a given you had sex."

"Mom!"

"Sweetheart, what is the point of denying about having sex with the woman, the woman you already mentioned you've fallen in-love and had an affair with? And, Minerva is brilliant and beautiful, and precisely your type."

"You're not bothered that she was my professor?" Hermione had to ask. "You don't think something improper happened when I was her student?"

"Oh, I doubt you would compromise your study for anything. Plus, from the moment you came home from school on your first year, you've been combining grumble and admiration of Professor McGonagall about her upstanding character and your penchant to frustrate her because of your _adventures_."

Hermione could almost laugh at the bizarre bluntness. But her mother eventually targeted the detail of how she would keep the baby from Minerva. The rattling from the great trepidation inside her regarding her grievous situation started once again.

"So Hermione, for an intelligent lady, why would you think you could hide your baby from this so called powerful woman in your world?"

Hermione could not decide if she should be surprised or not when her parents argued the same argument that Harry and Ron presented when she stated her reasoning. They deliberated back and forth for almost the entire week while they were there in Australia. She knew her parents were not fully convinced, but in the end, they truly wanted to rebuild their relationship as a family that they elected to just support their daughter's decision.

When Mr. Granger brought up a valid point of what if Minerva pays them a visit to ask about the baby, Hermione's had a real terror at the possibility. And the temper of her parents got a bit tested when they discussed the risk of magic being used on them to extract the information. Once again, the adequacy of being non-magical people dangled in front of them. It nearly created a new blemish on a mending family, but thankfully, none was willing to let that transpire.

Further, Harry stepped in and debated that he has every faith that Minerva is above using _Imperius_ curse. He explained to the Grangers that it was unforgivable curse in their world and what it was all about. Hermione knew that Harry had spoken the truth; Minerva will not abuse the use of magic, especially on non-magical people…

On the day they were about to go home, Hermione was shocked when his father asked her if there is a magic spell that would prevent him and her mother to reveal the truth about her baby until she so wishes to have it known. She was so stunned that her parents actually wanted her to cast it on them before they move back to London. They cited that since they are unequivocally vulnerable against magic, they might as well be smart and have Hermione use it on them in a defensive strategy. Then Mr. Granger extracted from Harry and Ron a solemn promise to be there for Hermione and the baby come hell or heaven, specially that they are not part of Hermione's bigger world— their magical world… A promise Harry and Ron assured the Grangers that they have long committed to.

And five years later, there at the Ministry banquet, her best friends are being over the top in demonstrating such promise.

"Lets all three leave." Harry strongly proposed while muttering only for Hermione and Ron's hearing. "Lets cash-in Kingsley's long ago deal that he won't hold it against us if we're not around for these things."

True, Kingsley stroke a deal with them about attending that miserable afternoon at a still ruined Hogwarts and afterwards never bothering to obligate them to any Ministry events. But Hermione knew that Ron was making sense right now than Harry. That her absence will surely be noted. But she could really make an excuse if it comes down to needing to make one... But Harry is still Harry Potter and he is always under the spotlight, no matter how hard her best friend tries to blend with the rest of the Wizarding population. But Ron had discounted the he too is one-third of the said 'Golden Trio', and departing with him is still equivalent to two-thirds of missing Golden Trio compared if she goes alone… But of course, she comprehended her best friends' outmost intention…

"Be smarter guys. I will go alone. And you both fill-in for the three of us here." Hermione murmured back to them. "And our senseless discussion is costing me precious timing."

She hurriedly kissed them both in cheeks and about to go when Harry took hold of her arm and said, "Mione, do you want to have night cap later? I know your parents have Rose for the night, Ron and I could drop by your flat, or you could come over, for you know…"

Harry's serious olive eyes sought hers and Hermione knew he was speaking more than having a cuppa. Of course, none of them is incognizant of the fact that it is the first time after five years that Hermione's Seventh of May had turned uneasy because Minerva McGonagall suddenly decided to come back into the living, scratch that, into normal circulation…

For fuck's sake, the older witch had practically shuttered herself in Hogwarts. Gil Williams once slipped that the Headmistress had asked Kingsley to instead have their regular meetings at the castle, which the Ministry agreed to. And so Minerva McGonagall barely attended anything outside Hogwarts apart from handful of highly mandatory Ministry meetings, which were normally outside Hermione's breadth and thus afforded them to avoid each other…

"It's alright, Harry." She squeezed his hand in assurance. "We'll have breakfast tomorrow like we planned, alright? I promise I am not that… you know…" She kissed him again on the cheek and ultimately started walking out of the banquet.

Hermione made sure to be as subtle as she can to avoid attention to her departure or any unnecessary intermission by others who would want to converge with her. She had a prepared pretext of just stepping out to get something from her office in case she gets stopped. At mere meters from the elevator she internally sighed when she heard her name being called and she recognised the voice as one of the newly officiated Auror earlier. She ran the list in her mind and sought the correct name to address the young wizard.

"Mr. Martin, she began without turning. "I will be right back."

"Ms. Granger, Mr. Leroy asked me to tell you—"

"I just need to get something from my office." Hermione gently cut-off but then she inwardly cursed when instead of Martin, it was Gil Williams that responded to her.

"Get it later Hermione." She turned just in time to see the Minister's chief of staff just catching up to her with the new Auror. "Kingsley wants you to be in the official photo with the elves who just arrived for the celebration, and of course with the Headmistress."

As she marched back towards the banquet wherein there's a woman she was attempting to escape from, Hermione tried to stifle her extreme aggravation. But in doing so, some unguarded energy got released, which manifested in a sudden perceptible flare-up from the lighted candle that she passed by.

"Woah Hermione, was that you? How did you do that wandless?" Gil mistook the display as deliberate.

"By magic, Gil." She quipped playfully to hide the fact that she just had an **accidental magic** , something that had not happened for a long time... Well, five years have been a long time...Hermione rallied herself to finally face the woman.

* * *

**End of Chapter 2 - Year 2005**

**Hermione's Accidental Magic**

* * *

AN: Do you have suggestions on how this face-off should be? Let me know.

* * *


	28. De-glamour and Incancosus

**Year 2005 - 4** **th** **Seventh of May - Chapter 3**

**Continuation**

* * *

_"By magic, Gil." She quipped playfully to hide the fact that she just had an_ _**accidental magic** _ _, something that had not happened for a long time... Well, five years have been a long time...Hermione rallied herself to finally face the woman._

* * *

When Hermione re-entered the banquet figuratively towed by Gil Williams for a photo op, two pairs of questioning eyes of Harry and Ron's met hers across the room. Ron mouthed _'What happened?'_ in reference to her escaping the commemoration. And she responded by cocking her head towards one area she was being led, where the Headmistress, the Minister, the MLE Head, and a throng of elves are in notable congregation.

"Good evening everyone. Good Sirs, Headmistress, I trust that all is well." She gave the greeting with utmost formality and somehow evaded looking at a pair of emeralds. She permitted the photographer to place her where she must be, which of course landed her beside the very woman she was trying to avoid.

The light scent of olive, ink and parchment of the older woman had Hermione almost staggering from the high familiarity invoked on her senses. Moreover, she could not help the electricity that traveled through her spine when the woman spoke.

"Outstanding work on _The Act for the Welfare of Elves,_ Ms. Granger."

"It was a collective effort, Headmistress." Hermione replied tersely without sparing a glance at the witch beside her. It took all her self-control not to visibly shudder at the sound of the woman.

"Alright everyone, big smile and look straight here..."

The loud instruction coming from the photographer inadvertently interfered and had Hermione automatically adapting a more neutral look. And then she strapped her emotions with the finest steel strap she could muster. _Do not be an idiot, Hermione._ She demanded from herself. _Do not be the biggest idiot, Hermione._ She repeated inside her head and decidedly concentrated on the ongoing photo-shoot.

Be that as it may, Hermione was powerless to prevent the intensity that threatened to set her alight when she unmistakably felt the slightest pressing of fingers to her wrist from the most familiar touch. Minerva's touch…

"You're remarkable, Hermione. Truly so."

The almost whispered words with the thickened Scottish brogue that accompanied the briefest contact had reached Hermione's ears and went straight to her heart. The use of her first name in such well-acquainted lilt easily crushed her supposedly invulnerable defense. Before she realised it, she was shifting to look at the woman she had not seen in person for 5 years, but one she had thought of every single day.

_I miss you…_

It took everything in Hermione to not say aloud the utmost yearning that fired inside her mind while gazing at Minerva McGonagall's face. The pair of emerald eyes, which equally comforted and haunted her for so many years, is currently returning the stare she was openly giving... Hermione was on the verge of neglecting her faculties and surrender to the captivation when a blinding flash of light broke the moment.

"Alright everybody, we'll have one more shot…

The unintended disruption took Hermione back to the present. She silently thanked the photographer's intrusion as she berated herself. She shifted back to face away from Minerva and brought up all her walls.

Nonetheless, for a second, the war inside her head persisted as her impeccable memory decided to replay some precious moments of her and the older witch. It is only when her own mind pulled the memory of when she confessed her love had been received with utmost fright by Minerva, which was supplemented with reminders of heartaches and complications that had Hermione effectively determined to walk away from the draw.

"At the count of three… Big smile… One, two…"

Hermione restored all her emotional protection with all her might. She ignored the clenching of her chest while she was affixing the fastening elements of her walls. She looked straight at the camera, completed the photographer's count in her head, and waited for the flash. The instant it was over, she smoothly detached herself from the group. She strode towards her friends without sparing a backward glance, and entirely ignored the photographer who called her for a solo photo shot.

"Thank you." Hermione expressed as she took the proffered drink from Harry when she re-joined their group.

_You're remarkable, Hermione. Truly so._

_Damn, damn woman!_ Hermione cursed inside her head as Minerva's beguiling words were practically knocking the wind out of her lungs. But she dug hard to be resolute and squashed the mawkishness with all the self-defiance in her.

"What did I miss?" Hermione turned her focus on her peers. "Don't tell me we're discussing the greatest games of Quidditch? Again?" She asked no one in particular with mocking groan and her expected effect commenced as most of their friends launched into their most favored games.

On one hand, she received wordless inquiry of 'Are you alright?' from her best friends, one after another— Harry with his penetrating olive eyes and Ron's brief rub on her shoulder.

It was clear how much on guard Harry and Ron have elected for her, about her. They have easily read her distress of needing to stay at the banquet, more so to have stood beside Minerva for the photograph. But to allay their unspoken concern, Hermione lifted her shoulder in a nonchalant half shrug. What is done is done. When both men did not seem to accept her gesture of assurance, she rolled her eyes to convey exasperation at their overly protectiveness.

After a beat, Ron seemingly let her be and began to argue the case of his Quidditch beloved team as the greatest. "Well, the Chudley Cannons in 1892—"

"Oh come on Ron, 113 years over, enough with the melodramatic _1892_." Charlie Weasley innocuously parodied Ron's well-repeated 1892 account. The good-natured ribbing from his brother had most of them in chuckles.

Apparently, the second Weasley son managed to take the time off from his work at the dragons' sanctuary in Romania, and probably arrived at the commemoration during the time that Hermione was 'attempting' to escape.

Additionally, their group attracted the company of Hannah Abbot, Luna Lovegood, Rolf Scamander, Lee Jordan, and Seamus Finnigan. However, Hermione noted that Audrey, Hestia, Susan, and Gil, are now mingling with other people.

For a while, the trading of Quidditch related ribbings ran amongst her peers. Hermione would further bait the bantering with her knowledge of the _Quidditch for All Ages_ to instigate zealous debate amongst the loyal fans in some of them. And with Lee Jordan playing the ever role commentator, the lively discussion was fuelled even more... But gradually, their conversation moved into swapping other amusing stories, and generally to catch up with each other. When Luna and Rolf started sharing their knowledge and experience with havoc causing creatures, they trolled into laughter.

At that point, Hermione began to relax and not mind the engagement amongst her peers. Nevertheless, she was mentally monitoring when she could finally depart without calling attention to it, considering that in a manner of speaking, the celebration at the banquet is far from winding-up. She'd rather leave as soon as she can and best remove any chance of another interaction with Minerva McGonagall. Although, Hermione had deduced that another enforced encounter with the woman is highly unlikely.

Since the fall of Voldemort in 1998, Hogwarts Headmistress and triple time war heroine Minerva McGonagall is still the front and center of their Wizarding world. Many students, present and former, including their parents, are applauding the continuous improvement administered by the Headmistress at Hogwarts. And while she is not at the forefront of Ministry affairs, many transformations and programs have the hallmark of Minerva McGonagall that no one can deny that considerable credit belongs to the woman… Her absence at most public events for the last five years was construed as her working hard, all the time, in order to accomplish more.

And so, her unexpected appearance tonight had drawn a sizeable crowd, from the Ministry employees, and of course flocks of witches and wizards who went to Hogwarts, which is to say, almost everybody.

Hermione knew that she ought to be grateful for the photo op she earlier had to endure. Ironically, it basically released her from the _'necessity_ ' of going to the Headmistress for a courteous formal greeting. As far as appearance is concern, she already did.

By another consumed half hour, she was definite to hit the exit and to not fail this time. She was turning to Harry to whisper her plans when she felt someone gently touched her elbow. She turned to look who had sought for her attention, and she found yellow luminescent twinkling eyes that had her gasped in great surprise.

"Dolly!" Hermione couched low and hugged the elf she once met; extremely unforgettable at Minerva's Manor, despite seven years had passed. "I am glad to see you here! Didn't see you earlier, did you just arrive?"

"I am glad to see you as well, Hermione." Dolly greeted back. "Yes, I just arrived with Binky. He fetched me from the Manor and insisted that we come. He said that the Headmistress encouraged all elves to at least come by, even just for a moment. As you know, most of us are not used to big crowd, and certainly not as guests."

"It's wonderful that you're here." Hermione was openly delighted at seeing Dolly.

"Aye. Binky was right to insist. I get to personally congratulate and thank you for all you have done for all elves." Dolly beamed at Hermione while continued speaking. "Just as _she_ said, many times before, you will not be short in accomplishing countless marvellous things...How you will change our world. And she is right to believe so."

"Ahhh." Hermione chewed on her bottom lip, unable to respond immediately at what Dolly had said in reference to Minerva's remark. "Well, thank…thank _her_ for the commendation. But _she_ may be over-playing my role. It was always joint participation with many others."

Old and yet undoubtedly wise eyes from Dolly looked deeper into Hermione's and the witch almost cower from the invoked vulnerability. But she held the piercing gaze and decided to trust the inherent goodness of the elf that seemingly examining her soul at the moment.

"May I speak frankly, Hermione?" Dolly asked after a not so short pause.

"Of course." Hermione's expression softened upon hearing the gentlest request. "Always, Dolly." And she gave the elf a genuine smile in reassurance.

"Indeed, you have become more and more beautiful." She heard Dolly's sincere words of compliment before she felt wobbly fingers softly brush the side of her face. "More beautiful here," and then the same hand pressed near her heart, "And more beautiful in here…"

"Thank you." Hermione quietly replied, and more about the latter incorporeal praise.

It does mean so much to her; partly because Dolly is not just any other elf that she generally cares for. Dolly holds a special place in her heart. How could Hermione forget that this kindhearted elf attempted to make it all right for her when her heart was disintegrating into thousand pieces that rotten night? That despite being with the McGonagall family, which by all count should care less about one first-timer-visiting witch, Dolly tried to be there for her as she trudge forth to leave McGonagall's Manor…

"But…" Dolly whole face brightened in mischief while touching the tip of Hermione's hair near her ear. "I do favor your look with longer hair. Just like how it was when I met you."

Hermione could not help but candidly laughed at Dolly's playful voiced observation. Currently, she is sporting a very short hairstyle, and had been so for quite sometime. Mere weeks after she gave birth to Rose, she had her hair in pixie cut and had not let it grown beyond her chin ever since.

"Hence, I'd let it grow longer again, now that I know that you like that better on me." She indulgently teased Dolly back with her signature Cheshire grin.

Dolly gave her own grin with a non-serious chide, "You're always welcome at McGonagall's Manor. You know that…" Hermione smilingly nodded for she credited Dolly for the well-intent invite, notwithstanding the unspoken complications. But then her smile faltered and her heart stopped when in parting embrace Dolly whispered to her, "I hope to meet the daughter, one day."

Before she could react, Dolly had moved away. After a moment of full-unadulterated emotional paralysis, she heard Ginny said something to her but totally missed it. "Sorry Gin, I didn't catch that."

"You've been to McGonagall's Manor?" Gin inquired with evident interest.

Hermione blinked and she went for obfuscation. "Umm, yes. Once." She knew her answer could be construed as an official trip in relation to her work. "That's when I met Dolly. She's one of the free elves at McGonagall Manor. McGonagall family freed all their elves, hundred years before the passing of 'The AWE'.

"Headmistress McGonagall has a Manor?" Lee Jordan asked with bug-eyed. "I thought she lives in Hogwarts."

"She lives in Hogwarts most of the time, for obvious reasons." Neville Longbottom replied to Lee Jordan. "While the Headmistress managed to set-up a new structure, which allows us to take residence outside the castle, we know that she rarely goes home to her Manor. She still stays at Hogwarts even when school is out of term." He said with delicate concern showing in his tone. After a slight sigh, he confirmed to Lee, "But yeah, there is a McGonagall Manor— one that is not a common knowledge, actually."

"Why?" Lee asked with plain confusion.

"Why is McGonagall Manor not known? Or why she doesn't go there as much?" Ginny addressed the questions after her eyes darted to Hermione's direction and found that Hermione was staying silent about the subject.

"Both. No, erase that." Lee reformatted his probing, but his inquisitiveness was strongly displayed on his face. "Just why most of us have never heard of McGonagall Manor?"

"My guess is…" Ginny's brows knitted in careful deliberation, "…those who know about it also know that the _sole_ living McGonagall is always at Hogwarts. And when you have the owner almost never home to such Manor, it follows that you have very few to maybe zero people who had been invited over. Thus, making it less common knowledge." Afterwards, in shrug, she said, "Besides, I only know because my Mum mentioned it once."

"My Grandma also mentioned it once, to me, way, way, way back." Neville interposed. "But nobody else has ever referred to it that I thought that perhaps the Manor had been lost or destroyed."

Neville's statement prompted Hermione to recall how Dolly once told her how the Manor has been receiving no visitors for many years, or even for a decade. She heard Neville continued explaining that his extrapolation was based on all through his seven years at Hogwarts, including his ghastly seventh year, the then Professor McGonagall was always, always at Hogwarts. He figured that if she still has the Manor that nobody really knows about, then the older witch would have ran away and bought time at her Manor, for staying at Hogwarts was making her a high target by bad people who either wanted her grievously injured or dead… But at the same breath, Neville conceded how that was impossible because the woman is a Gryffindor through and through!

"So, I was surprised and also curious when I heard that the Manor is actually still existing."

Neville further stated that he found out from Professor Sprout while doing his apprenticeship, before he assumed the post as Herbology Professor. It was that one time when they were replanting _Oleifera_ at Hogwarts greenhouse number 7. Professor Sprout informed him that the cuttings were from McGonagall Manor's greenhouse, including the _Calamicropia, Aratillis,_ and _Averrhoanitis_.

"Professor Sprout imparted that McGonagall Manor's greenhouse was quite abundant because apparently, the Manor elves were given free range by the Headmistress to take care of it however they preferred." Neville casually continued his account as he uttered, "…And that the richness has nothing to do with the Headmistress 'green thumb' because, because… well, Professor Sprout said that the Headmistress, well, she used the word spelled as, S-H-I-T— in Herbology… But let me just paraphrase what Professor Sprout had said...That the Headmistress' hands are not 'inclined' with Herbology.

The group light heartedly chuckled after Neville had finished his account. The flush on his face and his slapped on his forehead for his discourse were making everyone laughed even more, though definitely in good nature... Everyone at one point admitted how he or she has been astonished with how Neville Longbottom had truly stepped into being a noble, courageous and skilled wizard in his own right, probably more than most people. And what endeared him especially to his friends was the fact that Neville has achieved the transformation but stayed as the gentle person that he has always been.

"Oh shoot, don't ever mention THAT to the Headmistress!" Neville appealed to them. And it just made them snickered while they assured him not to worry.

Hermione fleetingly thought how Minerva once narrated to her that the primary reason she got Outstanding in Herbology for her _NEWTS_ was in part due to reading everything she could about the subject AND mostly because of constant owling with Dolly for advice on the actual handling of the plants. The recollection made Hermione laughed in tuned with others who were ribbing Neville.

But then, it took a turn where Hermione stopped herself from almost choking after Charlie had said, "So, Hermione Granger, it seems that you are the only one who knows about McGonagall Manor and actually been there. Was it as grand as they say?

"It was only a brief visit, Charlie." Hermione muttered and gave a dismissive wave to diffuse the attention. She felt how the rest was waiting on what more she would say and she chose her words wisely, "It was a Manor, and it was McGonagall's, of course it was grand."

"Is it true that their open holdings are sanctuary to different magical creatures? Did you see it? Did you see any interesting creatures?"

"I didn't, Charlie." Hermione responded as detached as she could. "I wasn't long there." She internally sighed and thought of how to alter their current subject. They need another topic to discuss before another comes with another query about her trip at McGonagall's Manor. Of that time where she fled with broken heart, mere hours after she and Minerva had made love…

"What is long is the queue of people greeting the Headmistress tonight." Ron butted in and Hermione silently thanked her redhead best friend, whether he purposefully or not, he had provided her the needed deflection.

"Actually, I have been watching for an opening so I could greet her." George grumbled. "But that long line is more like a looong line."

"What do you expect, George?" Angelina lightly harangued her husband. "They say she is so preoccupied with so many work that's why she has not been entertaining visits. Naturally, people would want to say hello to her now that they got her here."

"I know… I know…" George bobbed his head as if in agreement. "Anyhow," he gesticulated towards the area where Hermione can guess that he was pointing at the Headmistress. "Am I the only one seeing how see doesn't look like how she used to be and yet the same?"

There goes the change of topic, and wretchedly for Hermione, it went from McGonagall's Manor, straight to Minerva McGonagall herself.

"You mean she appears absolutely beautiful? And impossibly younger?" Hanna Abbott gave the precise summation of the older witch's appearance before anyone else could say anything.

"Yes. I thought I was just imagining the transformation." George spoke his opinion while he cranked his neck to have a better angle. "Thought it was brought by not seeing her for quite some time."

"Did she arrive like that? I have to admit…I have not seen the Headmistress LIKE that! Like decades had been saved off her!" Neville's voiced reflection floated as most of them consider the matter. "I mean, before coming here, I last saw her at the castle yesterday during our weekly staff meeting. While I heard Professor Filius quietly discussed something about what he had notice of the Headmistress appearance with Professor Cleighton… still, she was not looking like that…"

Then Angelina asked the knee-jerk question. "Do you think she's wearing glamour for the occasion?"

The boy-who-lived best friend of Hermione had lifted an eyebrow at her, seemingly in wicked tease. For a moment, Hermione regretted telling him at one point about how the older witch has been hiding behind layers of de-glamour. And how Minerva had let her removed the _communal charms_ that able her to see her true face. And how she enthused to Harry of how beautiful the woman is… She glared at him right now and forced herself to act as nosy as the rest. That's when she noted that minus her and Harry, all their peers are now unabashedly looking at Minerva McGonagall.

"Would the Headmistress use glamour charm?" Hannah asked the question in doubt, as they continued observing Minerva McGonagall.

And Luna stole back all their attention. "On the contrary…" And confused them with her comment. "The **_Incancosus_** are few around her now, the most reduced volume than I've ever seen before?"

"Ummm, Luna, what is the meaning of that?" Geroge did not bother concealing his expression and made a face-palm.

"The Headmistress is usually full of **_Incancosus_**. Tonight, they're still around her but not so much." The positively peculiar Ravenclaw gave the descriptions, like it was the most common thing to know.

Hermione already knew the truth about Minerva's appearance but she could not help but be as eager to comprehend Luna as the rest. And she knew she was not the only one who understood nothing of Luna's words.

"Sorry, Luna, we don't really follow." Again, George tried but failed to comprehend the provided information. "Please, explain to us, we are really unacquainted with _Incan-cosus_."

"Oh, right. Let's see…" Luna dreamily stated that suggests that she was recanting a memory, or possibly being her usual strange self… "I was nine when I first met the Professors at a chance encounter with my father at the Diagon Alley. When we parted, I told father she has many **_Incancosus_**. Father said that maybe the woman has severe unhealed wounds and scars, considering she fought the war before the last one, and that's why **_Incancosus_ **surrounded her because she's hiding her deformities." Luna held her hand at the obvious objection from George before she continued, "But father was mistaken, **_Incancosus_ **are creatures actually attracted not to deformities, but to the magic causing deformities."

George screwed up his face in unmistakable attempt to piece the clarification, but gave up. "One-more-time, Luna."

Hufflepuff Rolf Scamander took charge and gave the simplest explanation. "Luna is saying that the Headmistress is wearing LESS **de-glamour** today than she used to. She means that—"

"That the Headmistress looks truly that young and that beautiful!" George with the speed of light finished of Rolf's sentence as his eyes sparkled in bewilderment.

Rolf agreed, "Well, yes." And disagreed with George's statement. "And nope." And then finally put an end to the confusion, "Because to be more specific, it means that the Headmistress would look YOUNGER than now… And MORE beautiful than now… WHEN she drops her **de-glamour** completely."

"BLIMMEY!"

"MERLIN'S BEARD!"

"NO WAY!"

The chorus disbelief erupted from the group. But before they could formulate more exclamations, Luna submitted her conclusion to Rolf's pronouncement, "And that's when the **_Incancosus_** will be gone!"

For a moment, there was a pause as no one could react quickly to what Luna had said. Afterwards, what basically ensued was a mad enumeration of mad questions and equally mad answers supplied by Luna.

"So, she looks younger than that?"

"Yes, the level of **_Incancosus_** says she is de-glamourising so much!"

"So she what…de-glamourised herself to not show that she ages slower than wizarding aging?"

"Yes. The **_Incancosus_** is the evidence of that."

"Is it something to do when she became the Hogwarts headmistress?

" ** _Incancosus_** have been with the Headmistress even when she was not the Headmistress yet."

"Why didn't we ever think of the same with Headmaster Dumbledore? "

"I never saw **_Incancosus_** around Headmaster Dumbledore."

"Perhaps something to do with her Animagus? Cats have nine lives, they say. It could mean that 9 lives is actually equivalent to 1 life but aging very, very slow."

"We could check the **_Incancosus_ **when the Headmistress is in her cat form if there is an effect."

"You know, now that we are discussing this, it reminds me of those times, when the Professor, I mean the Headmistress, I mean back then as our Professor, when she would sometimes look 'differently' during the times she was roused inconveniently in the middle of the night because something happened?"

"Had we checked the **_Incancosus_** during those times, we could say if she had missed a layer of **de-glamour** or not."

Hermione could see the reigning expression of their friends was severe bafflement at what they are discovering about Minerva McGonagall. Even Harry and Ron are unmistakably in reflection of the matter since they never really seen Minerva's 'unglamourised' face, although she told them about it.

On the other hand, Hermione was fighting to adopt the same countenance of puzzlement sported by her friends, in pretense that she too has no idea. Truthfully, all she wanted to do was to die laughing of how Luna kept on citing the **_Incancosus_** again and again. Hermione is convinced that her Ravenclaw friend is really smart AND something. Moreover, Luna's unyielding confirmation of Minerva's not-so-secret-anymore de-glamourisation to hide her superb magical ageing (simply because of the presence of the _**Incancosus** )_ is thoroughly making Hermione believe in the existence of such unseen magical creature that Luna had referred to.

When Minerva arrived at the banquet with the Minister, at first glance, Hermione's golden brain had a recognition of the less than the usual **de-glamour** charms worn by the older woman. Undoubtedly, Hermione would know… She thought that there is no way the older witch had mistakenly overlooked completing her usual compact of **de-glamour** charms. But frankly, she did not want to give it a thought, frightful of where such rumination might lead her.

However, when George mentioned precisely how the woman looks differently, and when supplemented by Hannah's description of _younger_ and _all of a sudden more beautiful than ever_ , Hermione took a swift glance at Minerva's face and understood the discovery. She was certain that the woman dropped another layer of her **de-glamour** charm sometime while there at the banquet. But Hermione refused to ponder the why. Even as her friends are still throwing speculations, wild ones together with correct ones, she kept mummed and kept the lid on her emotions airtight to not be affected with the discussion.

Hermione heard Ginny asked Harry if he had known, and her best friend tried to be as vague as he could by telling her that he had suspected from time-to-time but was uncertain. When Ginny inquired if Harry had never asked the woman about it, Hermione took it as an absolute sign to depart the celebration before the talk about Minerva McGonagall directly landed her into something she might not get out of.

Hurriedly, she made farewell motions, dropped her need to be elsewhere, and allowed no one to impede her escape. She was walking away when she heard Angelina began conjecturing that if indeed the Headmistress is now reducing her **de-glamour** , it could be because they say an impressive wizard from America was at the Wizengamot meeting earlier for the consultation. Angie said that she hopes the Headmistress does date to take off stress from running the school and partly the Ministry. Hermione hastened her departure and blocked the mental picture assaulting her of unknown 'impressive' wizard who might or for all they know, already dating 'her Minerva'…

_Fuck, Hermione._

The curse blazed in her mind as she mirthlessly laughed at the reference of her possession of Minerva… She berated and equally taunted herself as she exited the Ministry building. Knowing that her flat is empty since Rose is staying for the night with her parents, one her daughter requested of, she contemplated going for a drink at a muggle bar, but soon enough rejected the notion. She hasn't really touched more than a glass of wine from the time she got so smashed and self-destructive that Seventh of May in Year 2000.

Needless to say, when she got pregnant with Rose, alcohol was out of question. Later on, the demanding schedule of being a new mum and pursuing Ministry work at every turn had left no room for Hermione to feel the need to forget her heartache and seek oblivion with a bottle. It wasn't that she no longer feels the ultimate longing and pain from not being with Minerva. Most nights, her eyes would close with her mind and heart still full of Minerva. She just learned to manage and accept her current situation. Perhaps one day…there would be magic of all magic that can fix matters of the heart...

When Hermione got to her flat, she decided to have a run. Ron had introduced the physical exercise when she wanted to get rid of her pregnancy weight after Rose was born. To her surprise, running was a hit for her that even after she had achieved her initial weight loss goal, she continued with the exercise, which immensely whipped her into shape. Additionally, whenever she pounds the streets, it generally helped clear her mind, or at least make sense of her life's decision.

When she had changed into her running gears and securely tucked her wand, she set out a 45 minute run in one of her usual route in London. Reaching the end of that course, Hermione was out of breath, notably more than the usual. Profusely sweating, she squinted to check her running watch and blinked to find out that she had completed the route in a little after the 30th minute mark. It was indeed a personal best. Somewhat distractedly, she thought of how seeing Minerva had automatically made her pushed herself, and jumped over her usual feat.

_Minerva._

Unbidden, the name was whispered by Hermione's lip after she sighed at such contemplation as she made her way back to her flat. But for no reason at all, Hermione found herself just 1 street turn from their old house…

When Mr. and Mrs. Granger moved back in Britain, they had taken residence elsewhere, and signed the transfer of the house to Hermione's possession. She extremely appreciated her parents' gesture but argued that she has no need for the house since her flat is more convenient to her commute to the Ministry. John Granger sat Hermione down and in not so many words, gave the full disposition of the house to her. She understood that her parents are still making it up to her and she did not have the heart to reject it, nor have the heart to sell the house where she grew up in. And if she will be honest, twice she spent precious togetherness in that house with the one woman who holds her heart. Thankfully, she has no financial requirement that would force her to dispose the property. Hence, she let the house be, except every read book she finished has ended being stored there, along with the ones she previously read when she was younger.

Hermione ducked to enter the back gate of the house and bypassed the hiding place for the house keys. Instead, she took her wand out and magically unlocked the back door and headed straight to take a shower. Under the cascading water, Hermione interrogated herself of why she is now in this house; bearing in mind that every year, this particular date is the very date she stayed resolutely away from this house.

Following the year she last spent with Minerva in this house, on that Seventh of May of when they ultimately conceived their daughter, Harry and Ron arranged an over night stay at her place after the commemoration that day. She intensely opposed the idea and dismissed the overly caring, though she appreciated the intention. But both boys were adamant and she gave in. It was one of those that they were just right to be so, because when the night crawled deeper, she found herself attacked with the most grievous feeling of wretchedness.

It was the first of the four consecutive commemorations that Minerva McGonagall had skipped. And that very night, Hermione experienced the utmost slapped of reality that whatever it was between her and Minerva, it had truly ended… Minerva was staying away from her…

It was done.

Was it done because she confessed her love to Minerva?

Was it done because Minerva could not say it back?

Was it done because Minerva did not want to accept her love?

Was it done because Minerva would not give back the same love?

Was it done because she ran King Kong jealous of her supposed conclusion that Minerva was once with Bellatrix?

Was it done because she had given birth to their daughter; a fact she kept secret from Minerva?

Was it done because Minerva bought her spiteful lies that she was sleeping with other people?

Was it done because she literally told Minerva that she cannot do it anymore?

The list of reasons has so much more after those pressing ones, with some premises far disconnected, and yet everything is compounded. But one was certain, the labyrinth was enough to wreck havoc on Hermione that night of May 7, 2001. Harry held her tight as Ron checked on Rose on the next room to ensure that the babe has not been awakened as the mother wailed at such pain and drowning dejection…

That was year 2001; Hermione shook her head at the blasted memories as she dried her hair with a towel. Changing into one of the two sets of clean clothes she had in the house, she had lain down on her bed to rest for a bit and ignored the question of why the hell she was not heading back to her flat...

She _accoid_ one random book and focused her mind at the muggle novel originally published in 1920 by Edith Wharton. She tried to forget all that had happened five years, four years, or just hour/s ago… But then she got annoyed at oneself upon automatically drawing the parallelism of her enduring heartache with that of Madame Ellen Olenska's; the main character in the novel she's currently perusing. She was vaguely musing the old philosophical conundrum of the passage; _does Life imitate Art, or Art imitates life,_ before she surrendered to sleep.

Not even thirty minutes asleep, Hermione stirred awake. It did not take her long to remember where she was and she stretched her body to release her muscle from the strain when she suddenly paused. It dawned on her what had actually roused her…

Most magical people would immediately reach for their wand when they sense some kind of movement in the house, particularly when they knew they were alone, and more importantly, no visitor is expected.

But then, for unfathomable reason, Hermione knew the emitted dainty sound from the unseen gait. However light the movement seems to be, there was no mistaking it.

Indeed, Minerva has arrived.

* * *

**End of Chapter 2 - Year 2005**

**De-glamour and Incancosus**

* * *

The draw is too much, isn't it…?

There is no escaping each other now...

* * *

_._

_Made up magical plants : Oleifera_ Calamicropia, Aratillis, Averrhoanitis

_Made up magical insect: Incancosu_

_Muggle book: Edith Wharton's The Age of Innocence_

* * *

_._

_Do you remember when Emma Watson cut her hair so short? The first link is how I envisioned Hermione when she chopped them pixie._

_And the second link is how she looks by this seventh of May in year 2005._

emma-watson-haircut/

hairs /cute-side-parted-combed-back-bob-cut-emma-watson-short-hairstyles/


	29. The Very Fourth One

**Year 2005 - 4** **th** **Seventh of May**

**Continuation**

* * *

_Hermione knew the emitted dainty sound from the unseen gait. However light the movement seems to be, there was no mistaking it._

_Indeed, Minerva has arrived._

* * *

In no time, Hermione watched Minerva let herself inside the bedroom, shut the door behind her, and unperturbedly settled against it.

Without getting up from where she was lying, Hermione's chocolate colored eyes met emerald ones in identical fervor, downright exploring every facet of the face of the other, noting the familiar and the novel.

The older woman's fatigue did not escape Hermione. Nor the fact that the de-glamour charms had been wholly shed, thus bestowing Hermione with the beautiful raw face of Minerva. She almost snickered at the thought of Luna's 'missing Icancosus', but she stayed silent, not wanting to be the one to break the allegorical 5-year-wall, the one they had erected the last time they were in the same bedroom.

When liberal minutes of wordlessly observing each other had passed, Minerva broke the reticence, "Did I wake you?"

Hermione's forehead furrowed a bit as she considered the question. Well, the answer is a yes, and a no. She did not know why, but she opted to shake her head to communicate a no. But a prodigious yawn escaped her, which somewhat contrasted the initial response she gave.

The unintended disparity of her actions resulted to a short but unreserved chuckles from Minerva. The sudden sound filled the otherwise silent bedroom and it doused Hermione as ever. It naturally took hold of her heart in rapture, causing her signature Cheshire grin to appear in its own volition.

Minerva probably construed Hermione's reaction as permission to invite herself further into the room. With feline grace she placed her already removed her outer robe to a nearby chair and cut the last of the distance by sitting on the bed, leaving mere inches of space between them. Then once again, the witches sent time to stand still as they elected to gaze at each other.

Hermione's thoughts eventually shifted to a recollection of how their current position is mirroring that very first instance she found herself awakened by Minerva, at the McGonagall Manor, seven years ago… The realized long period, which was riddled with perpetual longing precipitously pushed forth the immense pain residing deep inside Hermione's heart. The tangles, obscurities, and hopelessness for loving Minerva have started parading in her mind. And when her brain flashed the image of her daughter…their daughter…the one hidden truth she fears above all, it made her heart halt.

The internal battle had Hermione frozen from her resting position. The earlier grin she sported had reflexively vanished. The shift in her demeanor must be palpable to Minerva that her emerald colored eyes began clouding with amalgamation of emotions. Hermione caught all these before Minerva dropped her eyes and affixed somewhere on her lap...

Hermione continued to stare at Minerva and she struggled to read the woman. She thought she could detect ruefulness, a hint of anger, or maybe doubt… She sought for words to bid but she was lost on what to say, or where to begin in the first place… She opened her lips to try to say something, maybe about the commemoration they both attended earlier, but all it produced was a ragged sighed and let silence rule over the situation.

After a considerable stillness, Minerva for the second time braved to break it. "Hermione…" She softly uttered, but her eyes retained down casted. "I am truly sorry…" She quietly delivered the apology before she slipped one hand into Hermione's nearest hand.

The words of contrition and the contact of their hands all the more muted Hermione from responding. And before she could form words to offer, Minerva's emerald eyes lifted and pinned back at hers. "I have missed you so much, Hermione."

The look and the professed sentiment thoroughly seized every fiber in Hermione. She knew that she ought to stop herself from falling into captivation. She knew she wanted Minerva to absolutely clarify on what she had apologized for. She knew that while she too had missed Minerva ever so madly, there are numerous vital matters they have to address.

But her brain was entirely muddled. Her heart was blaring in love that was almost nauseating from the moment Minerva arrived at her house. No, that was inaccurate… because when the woman arrived at Ministry, the vast 5 years of absence and distance between them instantly obliterated with just one eye contact… Actually, that was also imprecise; Hermione is certain that the displayed detachment for the past 5 years was only her determined manner of predominance over her heart in order to not lose her mind as she bout in the arena of loving Minerva McGonagall.

But now, all common sense is shoved.

Hermione trailed after her heart's one and only desire…

She partially rose from her lying position, bent towards Minerva, and had her unoccupied hand gently capped the back of Minerva's head. "I've missed you more." She intensely whispered, right before her lips crashed into Minerva's.

The elicited moan from both women more than conveyed the utmost yearning. What followed was a blur of discarding clothes, pressing of noses into skin, and roaming of hands with severe possession… And of course, as Minerva's digits eventually buried deep inside Hermione with long welcomed dominion, Hermione found herself surrendering to that shattering bliss with Minerva's name on her lips…

After that delicious explosion, Hermione was compelling the tremors of her body into controllable state when her eyes opened to those familiar glassy emeralds, of which are undoubtedly burning with craving. She felt Minerva quivered in her obvious effort to regulate her own body and the effect of such comprehension virtually powered the continuing hunger in Hermione.

With tender manoeuvring, she spun Minerva onto her back and climbed on top of the older witch. Without losing eye contact, she managed to settle their intimate parts against each other… Both breathing heavily, they stalled further movement as they let heat coursed around them, passionately holding each other… Undoubtedly eradicating the rest of the world…

Hermione next made a small pressing of their bodies, she was answered with Minerva's vehement groan. She catalogued the magnificent music and watched emeralds rolled in pleasure. When said emeralds returned to hers ever more fierce, Hermione's hand lightly palmed one side of Minerva's face in pure affection. "Together, this time." She ardently uttered and drew her other hand to clench Minerva's hip.

"Yes, my darling. Together." Minerva whispered and grasped Hermione's body closer.

And together they did.

They commenced rocking slowly, gradually increasing the tempo and the fiction, until they ultimately sent each other over the cliff. And then they did it again… And again… And then ultimately collapsed in exhausted gratification…

When Hermione regained enough strength, she stretched to one side of the bed and fetched for the tumbler she earlier placed on a nearby table. Before taking the needed hydration, she turned and offered it to Minerva.

"You, first." Minerva responded, unassumingly observing Hermione who satiated her thirst. When she took her turn, Hermione repaid the observation as she settled back to bed.

"You're no longer letting that grow further?" Minerva questioned after she had replaced the tumbler on the table.

Though asked vaguely, Hermione understood that Minerva's question was about her hair. "Apparently, I should."

"Apparently?" Minerva quizzically replied as she crawled back into bed and wrapped her arms around Hermione.

"According to Dolly." Hermione laughed a little as she consciously ran a hand through her short hair. "I saw her earlier at the commemoration. She told me how she favors me with my old look."

"I hope you didn't take offence." Minerva nuzzled into Hermione.

"Of course not. Dolly is a sweetheart… But do—" she paused, a bit uncertain with what she was about to say, or rather what she was about to ask… And then she castigated oneself for the silliness of the suspended question.

"But do, what?" Minerva burrowed deeper into Hermione's neck, softly kissing the skin, and nudging the younger witch to finish her discontinued discourse.

"Do you like my hair like this?" Hermione gave a feeble laugh as she asked. "Or do you think it does not suit me?" She added hesitantly, mentally slapping her forehead for the preposterous concern.

"Oh darling…" Minerva slightly pulled away to be able to face Hermione. She fingered a loose stand and candidly said, "You look absolutely splendid. You should know that either way…" Minerva placed a soft kiss on Hermione's lips on every succeeding word, "You—look—marvellous."

"Ummm, thank you." Hermione mumbled as she nestled her face against Minerva's elegant neck, in effect swapping place with the older woman who is usually the one buried under her chin.

"You stole my spot." Hermione smiled upon hearing Minerva mumbled. She also felt lips dropped a kiss on her crown, and had strong arms tightened around her before Minerva spoke again with such tone of veracity. "Honestly darling, I have never seen anyone more beautiful than YOU in my entire life... "Minerva exhaled and then concluded the declaration with somberness. "And that is so…many…decades…of living…"

Hermione's heart soared. And her mind filed away Minerva's subtle stab on the significant age difference between them. But in reply, she opted to tease the woman. "Oh wow, Minerva! You have missed me."

Minerva chuckled for the received jest and then hummed in yield, "Indeed, I have..." Her hands skimmed the naked skin of Hermione and massaged the tone thighs she found.

As the Golden Brain of the heralded Golden Trio, Hermione had garnered the public attention by default since the last war. Following that would be her NEWTS and Masteries top achievement, which had the spotlight remaining on her. As years rolled by, her Ministry attachment expands said public attention, most especially when the big bosses are almost always putting approval stamps on her work. And as she blends deeper into adulthood, sheathed with the fact that she is a loving and yet single mother, who seems to be winning in public relations, career, and physical attractiveness, she began to gain a different kind of attention.

Hermione was not oblivious to both the innocent admiration and lustful regard that had been added into the mix as she managed to transform her body fairly fit due to her running. Quite suddenly, she is tagged as one of the most desirable witch. Absurdly, the label is up in the list, over Golden Brain, War Heroine, and Stellar Ministry Employee.

Truthfully, those things don't bother Hermione. As far as she is concern, she'd rather master the art of converting them as ammunition in case circumstances require them. She stocks them somewhere far behind her priorities, but not completely disregarding them. In a manner, she stashes them like another information in her brain, rather than waste energy on its triviality.

On the other hand, she is as cognisant and highly amused that despite the not so innocent attention she receives from others, what is making them not dare step out of bounds, despite being _a woman who is unattached,_ would be the fact that she is one-third of the Golden Trio. That the imaginary cordon is being held by Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, her best friends who constantly flex their protectiveness around her… And though she often told the two to not worry about her, she is deeply grateful for the very public guardianship.

Hermione felt Minerva shifted and she let the woman pulled her into tighter embrace in clear motion of possession, which puzzled her a bit until she heard Minerva's jealousy. "Even Rolanda, who is a man eater… don't tell her I told you that! Well, she would not stop hammering about you, and would prattle to every staff member every time she finds you in some magazine. Oh Merlin, Ro was unbearable when you graced that magazine in your feign Quidditch uniform."

Hermione tried to stifle her laughter. It was hilarious and strange to hear Minerva's attempt to veil her jealousy… And Hermione knew exactly which magazine Minerva had mentioned. In fact, she could remember the moment when she was handed a copy of such.

It was more than a year ago. One early morning, Ron barged in her flat holding a copy of _that_ magazine. He was terribly complaining of his best friend's _invasion_ of Quidditch. He was harmlessly protesting about the unfairness of having Hermione on the front cover of _Seeker Weekly_ when she is truly awful in that sport.

Of course, Ron's true intention was to beat Harry in teasing her about it (who came to her at lunch time). She told them about the magazine offer as soon as she received it in order to get their opinion, which after some heavy laughing at her, they supported her about it.

Ron early visit was just to thoroughly milk her embarrassment. And yet, before he left Hermione's flat, he abruptly turned rather stern. Ron jammed his forefinger into Hermione's shoulder and said, _"I bet you only did that magazine cover because you know someone would have to show McGonagall a copy of it! Don't worry, I'd make sure to owl several copies to Neville at Hogwarts. I'll even schedule them during different meal times. I hope SHE chokes on her tea in bitterness and gain enough sense to come begging after you!"_

Sometimes, Ron would stun her beyond measure. Such at times when he would be very vocal about his disapproval on Minerva's lack of effort to woe his best friend. When he does, he gives nerve-wrecking pronouncement, never mind that they have had multiple discussions of the entailing complications. For Ron, it was a simple going all Gryffindor for the name of love and happiness. Hermione understood Ron's love and protection there. She truly appreciates his intent, and equally infuriated with them… With Harry, well, it is another story.

"I heard they were sold out. And there were copies everywhere." Hermione heard Minerva's petulant grumble and it made her smile.

"That was my hope." She remarked mischievously, and ultimately laughed out loud when she felt a not so gentle squeeze on one of her bum.

"Professors had to confiscate several copies from students who were passing and perusing them during class. And how timely they came out on the week of Quidditch games opening at Hogwarts."

"Oh, goodness! George would be inconsolable if he finds out that a magazine beat his wild products in causing class disruptions." Hermione laughingly stated and kissed Minerva's chest before adding, "But surely you've figured out that my posing for it had been a trade…"

"I realised that. The included long article on _The AWE_ was notably enlightening."

"Yes." Hermione internally smiled that the woman indeed perused a copy. "That time, I was trying to be creative to broaden the audience and gain more support for its passage… Merlin knows who and why the magazine came up with the idea to have me as front cover! But after I got the offer, all I could think of was the opportunity to broadcast _The AWE_ in exchange for it… Of course, it was bloody awkward considering how I don't play Quidditch at all. But Ginny gave me valuable advice. She told me to take it as an inside joke to get through it. After all, I was doing it for a cause. Never mind that I fall off the broom every time I mount one. The irony, right?"

"I'd say, brilliant."

"Or desperate for the passage of The AWE." Hermione snickered.

"Brilliant… Always… Brilliant and beautiful..."

"Thank you, darling." Hermione could not stop the grin appearing on her face at Minerva's compliment. But in a weird sense, the conversation reminded her of how the older witch is so much unenlightened of her own physical attributes and in relation to the talks of Minerva's less de-glamour today at the commemoration, she said, "But Minerva, if we are discussing beautiful appearance— I am not the one who caused ruckus at the commemoration today."

Hermione only received _Mm-hmm_ in response from Minerva and so she proceeded to thrust with the matter of Minerva's less than de-glamour self at the Ministry. Besides, she was actually curious since Neville already mentioned how there was a distinction with the Headmistress' appearance even at Hogwarts these past several days.

"You do know that you did send everyone talking about your less than 'aging' self today. I have never seen George craned his neck that hard in order to stare at you. Though I doubt you forgot your routinely communal charms for the precise de-glamour you use."

The older woman still said basically nothing to that. For few seconds, Hermione weighed in if the fitting course of action is to come right out and ask about it, or back down and let the woman tell her when she wants to… She dug up herself from the snuggling position to see emeralds and better gauge them and when Minerva just stared back at her, she decided to leave it be.

"I had to pick up the boys' jaw, you know?" Hermione said in jest to end it. She gave the woman a bigger grin and then snuggled back.

Minerva snorted and after few minutes, she said, "No."

Hermione shifted again to look at Minerva's face, and at her lifted brow, Minerva supplied the clarification, "No, I did not forget the precise charms. Filius strongly encouraged that I alleviate it, _after_ he caught me mostly without it."

"He caught you?" Hermione gasped and fired away her questions. "When? How? And how in the world he managed to convince you to ease on de-glamour? And you've alleviated it? Beginning at Hogwarts? And how much did you decided to? Was Neville accurate when he said that though there were distinctions already that was the talk at Hogwarts the past days, you did not look, as you were when you arrived at the Ministry?"

Hermione has many more questions but she paused upon hearing Minerva's laughter. And then the woman gently pulled her down back into her arms.

"My darling, the ever curious…" Minerva exhaled before launching her narration… "Filius caught me in my office. About Fortnight..."

"You were not wearing de-glamour in your office?"

"Not entirely. Whenever I am more or less locked in my office for the mountain of work that needs to be done, I would cast a simple layer de-glamour. Needless to say, I lost track of dates and time about my meeting with Filius. He arrived and I did not even remember forgetting about not having complete de-glamour if Filius did not comment that he was glad to have seen that I do alleviate the heavy de-glamour from time to time."

"His lack of surprise meant he knew? Or at least have guessed?"

"I would say that he guessed… At any rate, I asked that he holds the knowledge in confidence, and he comprehended my— unspoken misgivings… But the clever man had to be Ravenclaw through and through. He threw in the rationale that I must not worry—."

"—Because people would not dare ask the Headmistress at point blank?"

"You're truly brilliant, darling." Minerva impressive tone accompanied her remarks. "Did you know that Filius used to debate at the staff room how the Sorting Hat made a mistake with you? He maintains that you should have been in Ravenclaw."

"Yes, Filius told me six years ago. And I told him that it was because I told the Sorting Hat that I am unsure if I would always follow my brain…"

"Did you?" Minerva asked in astonishment.

"Yes." Hermione chuckled. "But Minerva, back to telling about your decision to suddenly stunned the wizarding world and showing up with less of de-glamour."

"Alright." Minerva sighed before she continued, "I don't know what came over Filius to sort of lecture me, or shall we say what came over me to let him to sort of lecture me. But…"

Hermione had to smile. How true that last part of the sentence, of what in the world influenced Minerva McGonagall to let someone talk to her about something personal. She heard Minerva make another sigh, which sounded to express somewhere cross amusement and indignation…

"Filius went to prescribe his wisdom. To quote, he said, _While there are matters, which we have been certain at one point, the passing years are adequate license to pick up another manner to look at the same matter…For it will lead us to see the faded certainty we once held, and its irrelevance in our lives._ "

Hermione processed the aforementioned words of Filius Flitwick, the Head of Ravenclaw House, which for thousands of years, purportedly upholds intellect, learning, wisdom above all… And she was impressed, mostly for the courage to say such to Minerva McGonagall.

"And then I thought…with the commemoration approaching at that time, I would…" Minerva paused, and Hermione waited for the woman to continue, but there was no resumption.

"You were?" Hermione mildly prodded after a not so short suspension.

"Ummm… In part, I realised that what Filius had said, was not far fetched."

Not knowing how, Hermione knew that Minerva altered her statement and completely withheld the original thought. She already pressed the woman and did not want to do further urging as obviously Minerva changed her mind about whatever it was. Hermione decided to leave it be.

"So, Filius was right, right? While you know that people definitely have noticed, I would gamble a galleon that so far, none had risked one's life to ask the Headmistress. Not even the Minister!"

"Darling, you would have lost a galleon right at the bat because of one Hogwarts' staff."

"Really?" Hermione gasped.

"The aforementioned staff was actually with Filius at that time. Therefore, in a manner of speaking, one could raise grey technicality regarding the sequence of events. However, darling, you still have made the most grievous mistake to discount several older audacious students, of those belonging to none other but Gryffindor house currently residing in the castle!"

"Gryffindors!" Hermione laughed heartedly. "Too bad the Headmistress is not allowed to wring necks of students." She quipped and pleasantly heard Minerva's chuckles. "But Merlin, who in your staff? Not your present Herbology Gryffindor Professor, I gather? After all, I saw Neville still alive and breathing earlier at the Ministry."

Again, Hermione heard Minerva's deep chuckles and the sound is truly something that she would bottle in preciously. At the same time, she confirmed her inference, of the woman already lifting her de-glamour, at Hogwarts, before today, before the commemoration event at the Ministry.

"Most regrettably, Headmistress is similarly disallowed to wring necks of school staff." Minerva lightheartedly responded that was meant to volley back at Hermione's quip. "And the regret is only due to the fact that I know that you would not appreciate losing your Transfiguration master."

"Klyde!"

"He came with Filius to the office. I think he wanted to have a brief consultation before my intended meeting with Filius... The poor wizard suffered immense stuttering upon seeing me seemingly 'de-aged'. If it weren't so inappropriate, I would have laughed out loud at him for the way he was almost slobbering in disbelief."

"Poor Klyde! Salivating upon seeing the Headmistress' magnificence... And to think it was only partial magnificence that he was seeing!" Hermione replied in playful banter.

"Huh. When his brain caught up with what Filius had said, about just the alleviation of the charms, he became infuriating. I truly wanted to wring his bloody neck! Suddenly, he was outrageously claiming that Dumbledore owes him ten galleons. Apparently, he once bet with him that given my transfiguration skills, he reckoned that it is extended towards substantially altering my appearance."

"What? As Transfiguration Master he would know it has nothing to do with Transfiguration."

"That afternoon, your Transfiguration Master ostensibly lost his mind. Forgetting such rudimentary knowledge. And completely conflicting himself when contrary to what Filius said about people not daring, he forgot too that I was the Headmistress and badgered me to drop it fully so he can see _me_."

"How was he lucky—"

"What? No! I did NOT bloody drop it for him."

"I meant—"

"NO, darling! And given that Albus and Amelia are dead, with the exclusion of the Manor's elves, I am most certain that you are the only one alive who've seen… it… me… as this… as me."

Hermione was floored with Minerva's revelation. She was meant to say in jest how lucky Klyde is still alive after his juvenile behaviour with the Headmistress. However, the admission handed down by Minerva, about the rather short listing of people who had seen her without a bit of de-glamour, had simply ran over her thoughts. Hermione felt her heart explode at its accompanying implication— of Minerva letting her see it…her… Only her.

"Moreover", Minerva gravely continued, "Prior to last week, I could count in one hand of those I am positive who have the knowledge of _this_ matter… Garrick Ollivander, Millicent Bagnold, and Kingsley Shacklebolt." Minerva ticked a finger in gesture for every name she enumerated. "Yes, our current Minister in no uncertain terms told me he knows that I have heavy de-glamour due to the substantial number of Incancosus with me."

"What the bloody—" Hermione gasped.

"I know, _Incancosus_ , right? I did not bother for the lengthy explanation. Even if I tried it was one of those you either see it to believe or you'll never see them but no point of arguing against. But in a nutshell, these creatures are highly present as a result of magic coming from de-glamouring charms. It appears that upon assumption of the Ministry's office, one of the alterations Kingsley has employed was a magical login of all existences and auras, including unseen creatures. As such, high volume of Incancosus had been recorded whenever I'm there."

Quite madly, Hermione wanted to tell Minerva of the Incancosus discussion she had with her peers. Oh indeed, their Ravenclaw friend—Luna, has a very unique talent. She wanted to howl at remembering their interaction, but she smothered it. Her brain compelled her to not interrupt Minerva, as the woman is currently in a rare mood of talking without being prompted.

"I reckon that Garrick and Milli had detected the heavy de-glamour or they're simply too observant. Either way, on separate occasion, about 5 years apart if I may add, they approached me about their postulations. Milli said that _it_ did not add up…"

"Did not add up? Were you students in Hogwarts at the same time?"

"She was the head girl when I was in second year… Besides, I suppose, she was not a great Minister for nothing. On the other hand, Garrick flat out counseled that others might be threatened about _it._ Well, I was too astounded to say anything apart from soliciting to retain the information in highest confidentiality. Thankfully, they understood. Moreover, unlike Klyde, they were prudent to not ask to see _it_ …"

Next, Minerva commenced detailing those who she thought have suspected about it for quite some time but never directly brought up the matter... Like Filius…That prior to the incident, Minerva had received cryptic references from him for about 3 times in the span of many years they have worked together. And if she is not mistaken, all skirting of it happened when they were both spending summer at Hogwarts, but she all ignored the attempt.

And then, again, Hermione wanted to laugh out loud at hearing Sibill Trelawney… She internally sneered that it must be Trelawney's very large glasses, or her inner eye!

This was followed by one familiar name—Molly Weasley. It seems, the Weasley matriarch had commented to Minerva too many times of how she still look the way she does in comparison to a photo she had with Molly's brothers, a year before the Prewett twins died during that war.

For a moment, Minerva's voice wavered a bit at mentioning Severus Snape. "In quite a few of our chess games, that man had stated how 'some of us are not at all how we appear'. I have always inferred that it was something to do with him, with his past when he joined Tom Riddle in that first war. In hindsight, it was indeed so. However, I recall the handful of times he fiercely stared at my face as if he knew. I always gave him my questioning brow at his audacity. But it was principally to conceal my trepidation. He then would apologise in his Severus way of not really apologising. And always with his own questioning brow raised at me as he _apologised_."

Then shockingly, Hermione heard the name Lucius and Narcissa, and by extension Draco on the account of Abraxas Malfoy. Afterwards, Minerva started speaking about her work at the Gringgots, and thus the probability that the Goblins knew.

"I think…the older Goblins I've worked with at Gringgotts have been aware from the very beginning. They are astute creatures. But I believe that they do not bother involving themselves with issue of physical alteration, unless they see it openly against their kind…"

A flash of memory went inside Hermione's head, of the time when she had to _polyjuice_ when they were hunting horcrux. It gave her a feeling that she was seen as Hermione in Bellatrix appearance that time, but they were let go, probably because of Harry Potter and the so-called light they were fighting for. It just that the stealing at Gringgotts is another thing… Hermione swept the memory aside and returned her focus on Minerva's continuing admission.

"There, as far as I'm concerned, that's that…" The older witch made a long exhale and then moved their position wherein she returned into their usual cuddle, burying her head under Hermione's chin.

Hermione was mentally tallying the people and filing their connection to Minerva. And she was trying to ascertain how or even if it mattered that the Malfoy family knows or suspected something so personal about Minerva. Maybe that is one unknown root cause of the talks from the Slytherin House regarding the woman's magical power in defying rudimentary nature…

Then Hermione heard the older woman added, "Honestly darling, Harry and Ronald should be inserted in the list, for obvious reason…"

Hermione was about to ask if her telling the boys about her special ageing has offended Minerva. Strictly speaking, she told the boys without asking permission, even though Minerva did not explicitly said that she could not tell them... Furthermore, Hermione has several things that she wanted to voice out in reaction to what Minerva has divulged. And amongst things, her heart is zeroing at one nugget— _I am most certain that you are the only one alive who've seen… it… me… as me_.

Although Hermione has wondered, she never permitted herself to presume that she is the only one who has seen the woman's raw face. Upon hearing the truth, she could not help but let elation flickered inside her.

 _I am most certain that you are the only one alive who've seen… it… me… as me_.

* * *

**End of Chapter 4 – Year 2005**

**The Very Fourth One**


	30. The Rook and The Queen

**Year 2005 - 4** **th** **Seventh of May**

**Continuation**

* * *

_Although Hermione has wondered, she never permitted herself to presume that she is the only one who has seen the woman's raw face. Upon hearing the truth, she could not help but let elation flickered inside her._

_I am most certain that you are the only one alive who've seen… it… me… as me_.

* * *

This facet of Minerva's ageing is truly a rarity, and to say so in a magical world is nothing but a true wonder, even with magical people. Hermione could not begin to imagine how Albus Dumbledore had not given its due interest, and to what capacity. Her experience with the old wizard's machinations of Harry lead her to believe that Dumbledore was someone who had the propensity to use vital information for the so-called greater good, regardless that real people are involved, even those supposedly interpersonal with him.

Hermione was mulling on how to phrase her query without exposing her judgment when she was startled when Minerva asked, "What is it?"

"How do you know I have a question?"

She felt Minerva shrugged and somehow she just had to accede.

"How… What did Dumbledore say about your magical ageing?"

"Ah, Albus." Minerva said it in a way that suggested that this specific thought was expected. "You know, the utmost misconception about Albus by many is that the man knew everything…"

"Didn't he? Not literally, I supposed." Hermione contemplated further, "But most things, and certainly more than anyone. He was, after all, had lived quite long. And given of what had been written of him, notwithstanding the things known only by those closest to him, the rest would obviously appraise him as someone who had experience quite a lot and thus knew a lot."

In a manner of speaking, you are correct. But I have known Albus for a very long time, and I've witnessed him missed so many things. And good man as he was; the wizard in him was truly predisposed with what he deemed pivotal on matters concerning the bigger picture— always the common good, always for the greater good."

Before Hermione realised what she had done, she snorted upon hearing the exact thoughts she had that Minerva just given voice to. "I meant no disrespect to—"

"I know." Minerva abruptly cut her off laughingly. "Had he not gotten himself killed, it would have been a delight to see you call his bullshits. Probably hex him too, on behalf of Harry… No, I rectify, after Harry's disposal of Tom Riddle for good, I believe you would most certainly duel with Albus for what he had put Harry through… I'll stand as your second, only so I could see his thunderstruck face."

"I'm not homicidal to duel Dumbledore," Hermione muttered. "But maybe I'll set his robes on fire," she openly laughed, "As I did on Professor Snape when I thought he was jinxing Harry's broom during his first Quidditch match."

Minerva chortled, "Darling, I would wager that it was when you have given Albus the notion that Harry would succeed with whatever he was planning for him to do, with you by his side."

"What? Wait, you knew I set Snape on fire? Why didn't he ask for my expulsion?"

"I supposed Severus realised that at the mayhem of him on fire, the true perpetrator was distracted at killing Harry, which as we all found out was Tom Riddle through Quirrell… And like I said, Albus would not have it. He probably began seeing you as essential chess piece."

"Even though I kind of realised that impression, it is still disconcerting when you say things about Dumbledore as such… Especially when I think of what essential piece you've been for him…"

"A rook."

"What?"

"I was his rook… Entrusted to protect Hogwarts..."

"Harry said that…" Hermione added quietly, "Not that you were a rook. But that when Umbridge discovered D.A., he said that he knew you were palming your wand, but he also understood that you and Dumbledore had passed something with a mere look in mere seconds…"

"Albus always maintained that Voldemort was not entirely gone after leaving Harry as orphan. And after the Philosopher's stone attempted theft, we started discussing potentials and plots… Except the fool…"

"…Didn't tell you when he got the curse from the ring. Did not tell you that he was dying. Did not tell you of Snape's truest allegiance. And did not tell you of his suspicion about Harry…"

Hermione knew that her resentful tone was not miss by Minerva as the older witch shifted to wrapped arms tighter around her. She sighed and decided to jest a bit, "I am amazed how you did not raise Dumbledore from death and killed him yourself after everything…"

It worked. Minerva laughed.

"The thought did not cross my mind just once, I assure you… But let me ask you, how many times you've been in rage of Harry and yet make sure to be there for him, _**every**_ step of the way?"

"Point taken." Hermione acceded.

"Besides, Albus' rook or not, I would never leave Hogwarts, more so that time… As much as I thought of tracking you three in order to help you, or send help to you, I knew I would just endanger you. Many death eaters, such as the Carrows to say the least, were watching my every breath."

Hermione thought of what would have happened had they decided to go to Minerva before they took off on the run. But she remembered that there wasn't really time or opportunity to make any plans. Sure, she had guessed that Harry would bolt alone for his so-called mission that she did not know, and she decided to blindly stack up on knowledge and supplies. She tasked Ron to confront and convince Harry to let them in it… And the attack at the wedding reception at the Burrow, when Minerva McGonagall was yet to arrive did not at all give any chance for her to talk to the one person she trusted, and powerful enough to help.

"It was beyond frustrating that I was really limited into the role of a Hogwarts Professor to protect students and fellow staff… One role I cannot even openly perform without grave consequences for I would have been more useless if I was sent to Azkaban or be killed… But for many times that I could not count anymore, that is _one_ thing Albus made me solemnly promise— to never abandon Hogwarts… Years prior to his death, but more intensely after Cedric Diggory was killed, he had checked and checked with me that I know that I must always be there at the castle. And so… When hell broke loose, I just had to have faith that Albus knew that that it is where I am most needed…"

Hermione carefully considered the words Minerva just spoken. It is in hindsight that she accepts that it was possibly the better plan of Dumbledore, to leave Hogwarts in the hands of Minerva McGonagall…

Simultaneous recognition dwelled in Hermione that it was equally better that she never had the chance to seek the woman before their Horcrux hunt. Minerva was essentially in the dark for the entire time that she and the boys had been out there. For having no information, it kept Minerva not safer, but less in danger, for any knowledge would have automatically sent her to her demise…

"He could have at least made some kind of a system for you to figure out."

"I agree with you…" Minerva expelled a long sigh before she said, "But I have known and been with Dumbledore in that castle for a very long period… He must have been planning to leave me more crumbs, except, the death eaters beat him to it…"

Hermione did not say anything, for that hypothesis could have gone in so many ways… But the next words that Minerva sort of dispelled his surmounting distrust. "

"Albus had put his faith in me that I will protect Hogwarts with all my might as the war rage on, and I could not let him, or Hogwarts down… And I supposed, Albus had faith in Severus that he would protect me in there, no matter what…"

After all the said and done, and all that had been revealed, it is not too difficult to imagine how Severus Snape did all he can to protect Minerva McGonagall while playing his role of Voldemort's man at Hogwarts. Hermione recalled of the way Ginny narrated snippets of the altercation between Severus and Minerva. She could not help but repeat what she had said to Ginny during that conversation… "Our roles in the war…"

"Yes…" Minerva then imparted one true parallelism about that war, "And not to mean anything injurious, while I was Albus' rook at Hogwarts, you were certainly Harry's Queen out there on the run…"

"And none matters for we would have stepped into any role for our best friends…" Hermione suitably concluded…

"Indeed…" Minerva replied in accord.

* * *

**End of Chapter 30**

**The Rook and The Queen**


	31. Saoirse and Amelia

**Year 2005 - 4** **th** **Seventh of May**

**Continuation**

* * *

_Minerva then imparted one true parallelism about that war, "And not to mean anything injurious, while I was Albus' rook at Hogwarts, you were certainly Harry's Queen out there on the run…"_

" _And none matters for we would have stepped into any role for our best friends…" Hermione suitably concluded…_

" _Indeed…" Minerva replied in accord._

* * *

For a while, none of them speak, perhaps in full absorption of what they have shared. Until Hermione remembered their earlier topic, of Minerva's extraordinaire magical ageing. And so, she re-asked Minerva of what Dumbledore had thought of it.

"He considered this," mindlessly gesturing to oneself, "As something related to a fable."

"What fable?"

"The fable of ' _The Witch and Magical Creatures Treaty_ '. Are you familiar with it? It was written as children's bed time story"

"Is that the story of how magical creatures used to be in ceaseless conflicts with each other due to territorial claims? It was said that it vehemently dwindled the population of many magical creatures, as well as killing humans, magical and muggles, in collateral damage. That it only ended, or at least vastly confined when one witch managed to cross-over to different kingdoms and encouraged leaders of formidable creatures to form a council and arrived with a resolution."

"Of course, you know of it. And yes, precisely that fable." Minerva confirmed, she momentarily hesitated before she said, "Albus believed that the said witch was my ancestor."

"Was he correct?"

"Yes."

"REALLY?" Hermione gasped in astonishment. "Then ' _The Witch and Magical Creatures Treaty_ ' is not—"

"—Not a fable." Minerva completed Hermione's sentence.

"That's wicked, Minerva!" Hermione's excitement was palpable and increased tenfold when her brilliant brain suddenly dredged-up one buried information, "Hold on… Then the witch…" She rattled on and she unthinkingly proceeded to semi sit-up as of great interest moved within her, "Minerva, the witch, your ancestor, her name was Saoirse... Saoirse McGonagall, right?"

"How did you bloody know that?" Minerva asked in absolute disbelief, and followed Hermione's sitting action, transfiguring two nearest piece of clothing into sets of robes for each of them.

"—No. No, I did not know. Not really. Not moments ago… Not until you've mentioned the fable, Dumbledore's supposition, only then the notion triggered in my—"

"Elucidate the leap of knowledge, darling," was Minerva's hastened request for explanation.

"Harry's cloak… Dumbledore… The Deathly Hollows story…" Hermione mentally shook her head to arrange her thoughts more explicit, "And its connection with the last war somehow made me wary of children's stories. I know it was probably paranoia, but I figured, I should at least read them. And I sort of read them that time I was revising for my mastery level 1. I would switch to reading magical children's books to take breaks from grave lessons."

What Hermione did not care to mention was the verity of such effort was in part to refrain from having vacuum and wallow about Minerva's first ever rejection. It was that time of her life that she was more than willing to fry her brain with any learning or reading materials instead of being paralysed with looping memories of the time she spent with Minerva at McGonagall's Manor and then departed with a suffering heart.

"I asked Molly for a list and ' _The Witch and the Magical Creatures Treaty_ ' was included."

"Alright. But darling, I've read that book. There is definitely no mention of Saoirse McGonagall. Enlighten where you've learned her name?"

"I stumbled upon it. When I was working at the Regulation and Control, I've read through very old ledgers stacked in one of the ignored storing room. One journal mentioned Saoirse McGonagall."

"Now, I am more confused. I don't believe there was ever an official connection between RCMC and my family. Why would Saoirse name be found there? Besides, the formal establishment of RCMC was just about 300 years ago. This so-called fable, or rather, Saoirse was said to have lived more than 700 years ago."

"That long ago? _THAT_ I did not know…" Hermione's chocolate eyes widen in surprise. "And I agree that there was no business pertaining to your family. In fact, most Wizarding family names referenced in RCMC old records were in relation to Elves ownership. The McGonagall family never registered any of their house elves. That actually made me wonder why Dolly was sure that her mother was freed by your great-great grandmother Isobel when it seems no elves ever belonged to your family, thus they were never owned?"

"Indeed, no McGonagall ever owned any elves. Isobel McGonagall was rather known to taking sport in pissing off pureblood society that she deemed it right to conduct a freeing ceremony. Some sort of McGonagall's grand gesture to make it public that Dolly's mother and the rest of the elves are part of the family." Minerva stated in clarification... "But please darling, do go back on what you've read about Saoirse at RCMC journal."

"It was Professor Wilhelmina Grubbly-Plank great-great grandfather's journal. Apparently, he worked there for many years. In one of the record of their meetings, he did mention that there was this one fascinating story being passed on within their family. That there was this one witch who had initiated the early years of territorial formation specialy amongs beast. That many did not understand her ability but it seemed that she can communicate with different creatures… And her name was Saoirse… And of the family they suspected she belonged to was the McGonagall?"

"I had no idea… But come to think of it… It was believed that the Grubbly family used to have a hidden farm wherein they would harboured Unicorns who were in flight from illegal hunters."

"Maybe that was how the story came to them. The unicorns could have told them. After all, there was a legend that Unicorns can commincicate with humans through legilimency… I am of course merely speculation… And in all honestly, there wasn't really anything else in that journal… But when you've mentioned Dumbledore and his supposition of fable, it was enough for me to sort of—"

"Connect the dots."

"So, what did Dumbledore know of Saoirse?"

"The basis of his supposition was probably the same consideration that you've employed, of fables and possible life-factual connection. However, I don't think he was utterly sure that the witch in the fable was real, more so that I was truly related to her. I never told him about her, and the possible meaning to this…"

"Albus had no knowledge of Saoirse McGonagall?" This completely astounded Hermione. "How come?"

"Simple. Prior to summer of year 1990, I also _**did not**_ know about Saoirse. And I never got the chance to tell Albus."

"REALLY…? "But you _**did**_ know prior to that summer, "She gestured to Minerva's face, "About this?"

"Yes. I was de-glamouring for decade or so…"

"But you did _NOT_ truly know of it? How come? You were not curious?"

"I wanted to know, certainly… But to be truthful, I put it aside thinking I'll deal with de-glamouring first, and later research about it… Besides, I had no idea where to start without…"

"…Without drawing attention to it." Hermione finished in comprehension.

"I wouldn't even claim I was finally searching for _answers_ that summer… But I remember that Albus shooed me away from Hogwarts to take a vacation before new term starts. I, opted to just go home. Then one afternoon, I was re-organising one section of the library when I accidentally dislodged a secret compartment; stored inside were my ancestors' records…"

"Only then you knew that you have magical ageing? And because of Saoirse?"

"Not precisely."

"What do you mean? What did you find out?"

"That I have an ancestor, named Saoirse, and with a story very similar to what you've read in the children's book."

"You're not entirely convinced they were accurate?"

"I have reservations."

"Of her powers? Because of course, there were no exams, and thus no record that time."

"Partly for that reason. But my greater reservation comes from the fact that these accounts were from personal journals of McGonagall family members from different generations. All of the narratives admitted that they were merely re-telling the stories about supposedly a family member from hundreds and hundreds of years ago."

"Don't tell me you're not absolutely sure that Saoirse ever existed?

"Actually, I am certain she did exist. There is a Saoirse in our recorded genealogy. The included narrative of her abilities is what I've been skeptical about."

"The fable says that she can transform into any creature."

"Exactly. The same account of how supposedly Saoirse can transform herself physically into absolute any creature she intended, plus supposedly she can still have normal human faculties is quite contrary to the elemental transfiguration that we know of..."

"First of all, I think that latter part _**IS**_ the missing detail in the fable of how and why she was granted access by different creatures into their kingdoms. Secondly, it is against elemental transfiguration that we know of, but maybe it was not transfiguration…?"

"What, you think it was one of those long lost type of magical power?"

"Could be. Who knows? Take the case of the sorting hat, up to now, none has figured out the magic powering it. Something that we don't have a name for… nor a recorded basis of it…"

"Hmmn."

"Minerva, once upon a time, you could transfigure yourself into an _Obscurus_ even though you are not an _Obscurial_. You didn't consider that perhaps that is of the same magical ability running in your blood that ran through Saoirse?"

"I thought of it, but by the time I've found the accounts about Saoirse in the family library, we were well into the opening act of Voldemort's return with Quirinus Quirrell… That I quickly shelved and locked the info as dark times were seemingly crawling back."

"That's why Dumbledore never knew." Hermione said in understanding before she prod for more, "The story ends with the creatures belonging in the council offering Saoirse's a gift, something that will come into fruition when it is right. It never said what the gift would be, and of how it happen. But I assumed that the gift was—" She gestured again to Minerva's face "this?"

"Yes. The oldest account I found had cited that Saoirse's bloodline could receive the gift of magical ageing."

"Could?"

"Could. The _**very word**_ I caught as well… For generations, the McGonagall family kept an accounting of every family members state of ageing, however, none exhibited more than the usual magical ageing. Until it became less and less cited."

"Why?"

"20 generations that passed, probably more, it was bound to be dismissed as was the case when nothing remotely related actually occur..."

"Maybe that is also why the fable when written had missed that detail."

"Plus, it was said that some old pureblood families outwardly expressed relief that the so-called gift to our family never manifested. I could just imagine their effort to hush it."

"There's the connection to Abraxas Malfoy's suspicion. Perhaps most pureblood families more or less dismissed it as a fable, but some could have kept on a look out… But did you discover how you manage to be, for lack of appropriate term, be the _right_ one?"

"Many of my ancestors suspected that there was a caveat attached for a McGonagall to receive the gift. One that Saoirse did not reveal. She probably had foreseen the consequences. And let fate be the judge of it…"

"And that was?"

"I do not know. Although, I have one theory."

"Can you tell me?"

"I couldn't—"

"Minerva, you don't have to tell me if—"

"Darling, I meant to say that I couldn't be certain as they remain just a theory. Except it is the closest I've consider… And I do want to share it with you…"

Hermione could hear the faltering in Minerva's voice and she wondered if she should re-assure that woman that there is no need to tell if she's uncomfortable. Then she was surprised with the apology the came out from the older witch.

"Pardon me darling, I do have to ask that you keep this one even from Harry and Ronald."

"Do not apologise, Minerva." Hermione responded and she hastened to swear, "You have my word, I won't tell a soul, that is If you are definite that you want to tell me."

Hermione watched Minerva nod and as the woman ran one hand through her hair, she was thoroughly reminded how beautiful Minerva McGonagall is… She was mentally jolted when Minerva reached out to the side of her face for a gentle gesture in acknowledgement to her pledge of confidentiality, before the woman started her chronicle.

"This was after Albus defeated Gellert. After I healed from the battle I would wander into the forbidden forest to cope with…grief and rage running through my veins."

It was not hard for Hermione to comprehend the struggle of grief and rage and a whole lot of unsaid emotions that Minerva had to confront after such debacle she had participated to bring Grindelwald down. And yet she knew that comprehension is immensely inadequate next to actually fighting in that bloodbath, not to mention to have been there only at the age of 14…

"Albus forbid me to go there alone. The forest, as you know, is never a secure place. Dangerous creatures are roaming regularly, plus the felonious humans, who are hunting vulnerable creatures for illegal trade… Despite Albus' warnings, I know he will not impose on me…"

"He would not, could not. Not after what you've been through with him…"

"I knew it. And he knew it. At least we knew that I had the upper hand given the circumstances… To Albus' credit, he understood my need to find my ground, to try to be a _normal_ young person, after all that… So, for many weeks I would go to the forbidden forest to just… be away from people and learn to control my emotions. I know that I cannot and did not really slip off Albus' radar. I knew he would just let me burn my time and his, as he would keep an eye on me, while hidden in respectable distance. Nevertheless, he was always present to protect me, in case..."

It dawned on Hermione that she just learned one facet of the many complicated reasons of Minerva's loyalty to Albus Dumbledore. And of which the rest of the world never fathomed. Especially when the most gifted witch of her age, one who was riding the fastest track of Ministry career promotion as youngest MLE Deputy at that time, simply dropped everything and raced back to Hogwarts the moment Dumbledore became the Headmaster.

Back when Hermione was a student, once or maybe twice, she too pondered on how someone like Minerva McGonagall seemed to irrationally follow Albus Dumbledore despite apparent dissent or misgivings on her part. But the more Minerva let her peak into her past; Hermione finds herself uselessly indignant to the talks that she heard back then about Minerva's blind allegiance…

Now that Hermione had been granted with well-kept particulars of Minerva's relationship with Dumbledore, she understands that it was never about submission… That it was beyond-this-world connection between two people who literally altered their lives together when they took on the task of ending the war in the mid 40s by capturing Grindelwald. Something she and Harry and Ron, but mostly with Harry, that they had achieved a version of their own…

"One night, Albus was held at an extended hearing at the Wizengamot. Knowing that I was truly alone, I was daring _fate_ and I went farther into the forest, much farther than I've ever been. And it was when I encountered a Sigbin"

"A Sigbin? The last recorded sighting of their kind was more than 100 years."

"I could not be mistaken, the description of Kangaroo-like with flapping ears, red blazing eyes, and whip-like tail."s

"Sigbin attacks humans, Minerva."

"I know, darling. But I saw that it had a huge swelling on one of its legs, it could hardly move. I was deciding on how to help when—"

"Help? It was said that they eat human heart."

"I was aware of that too. But believe it or not, it was crying from the pain like a child, and I could not just ignore it, especially when I could hear the incoming pack of centaurs that would trample the Sigbin."

"And trample you…" Hermione gasped.

"That indeed, crossed my mind. But fortunately, it didn't… Besides, I thought I had the brilliant idea to cast Sonorus so they could hear me in advance and heed my request to not trample the injured Sigbin."

"You casted Sonorus to warn a pack of centaurs?"

"That was all I could think of as advance warning without appearing to be a threat."

"Minerva! They could have still treated you as an enemy!"

"Good thing, they didn't… So I went on to transfigure some plants into wrapping cloth and twigs into a tourniquet. I did not know if Sigbin could understand humans but I spoke and gestured to it that I intended to mend its broken leg."

"Oh, Merlin! Minerva what possessed you?"

"It was more than…half a century ago for Merlin's sake! Ease up, darling…"

"Your're—"

"Moving with my story…" Minerva waived her off. "I bandaged the Sigbin all the while being observed by a pack of Centaurs who decided to hang around while I was tending to the Sigbin. When I was done, I asked one of the Centaurs if they would be kind enough to lead me to a safe place so I could bring the injured Sigbin until it was well enough."

"Minerva, centaurs are—"

"I know… I know… They are not the friendliest of creatures to humans especially out there. But I was banking that my polite solicitation will merit their sense of righteousness and help me.

"And they say I am outrageous about helping creatures! If people would know—"

"No, darling, I don't want people—"

"—I know, Minerva." Hermione placed a kissed on Minerva's lips before uttering, "I'm just saying...You are amazing and you don't even know it… Even at very young age… But please, continue."

"Well, then, to cut the long story, the centaurs took over bringing the Sigbin to safety, but not before one of the centaurs asked for my name. As a matter of fact, one of the taller centaurs made me swear to him that I had given my true name."

"You reckon it was the completion of the caveat? Save an injured creature?"

"That would be my theory."

"Helping a creature that was a danger to your well being. And then expectantly managing to solicit cooperation from another creature in the process…"

"Also my part of my theory."

"Minerva, that in essence, bridging two kinds of creatures. Perhaps, the elements sufficed to merit the gift."

"If it was… I really could not have known. Do bear in mind that that happened almost 30 years before I realised I was not ageing accordingly. And almost 50 years before I found the secret compartment at the Manor's library."

"How did you actually realize that you're ageing half of magical pace?"

"Frankly, I never even realised _it_ …. _this…_ Not until Amelia pointed it out. She told me that I look exactly how I was when I was working at the Ministry after I graduated at Hogwarts… She even pointed out that she could see how oblivious I am of it."

"And this was when? Were you already a professor?"

"Yes! For two decades! Merlin, I turned 45 years old that time when Amelia opened my eyes! I was utterly flabbergasted! I know how obtuse it sounded. But in my defense, we were deep in war with Voldemort's first reign of terror for years that I had no time to look at a mirror."

"I understand about having no time to look at a mirror while fighting a war. But I know I was looking absolutely rubbish during the Horcruxes' hunt with the boys."

"You, you really did not know? Not until Amelia Bones told you?"

"She was as stupefied as you are now when I admitted of not having any notion. I argued that it was just magical ageing. Then few hours later, Amelia shoved a mirror in front of our faces and held an old photograph of us. It was taken during our dinner celebration after I was promoted MLE Deputy. A two-decade-old photograph which showed the almost exact face of mine to that reflected in the mirror, in contrast to Amelia's slight older but nonetheless obvious maturing face. Only then it hit me of what Amelia was blubbering about my ageing, or rather the absence of it… Then she gave me grief, in part teasing of my density, in part in resentment for looking younger than her despite I was older than her."

"Hence you've started de-glamouring?"

"Yes. But _**not**_ for Amelia's account..."

"You thought it was the most logical action, to just de-glamour…"

"Albus agreed. But he did warn that I should look into it before someone with hidden agenda discovers it, and used the knowledge to malign me as were fighting a war… However, Amelia actually thought that I should just let it be... In fact, she had this rule that I must forsake the de-glamour whenever I'm with her…"

"She sounded just as head-strong as you."

"Oh, perhaps even more. I used to say to her that with her penchant to be obstinate, it was a surprise the sorting hat did not put her in Gryffindor House… We have spent a great deal of time together that I would know how thick her head had been."

"Earlier, Susan Bones was telling some of us how you were very close with her Aunt."

"Well, yes. You already knew that, a long time ago." Minerva nonchalantly answered her.

"Susan also told us the story of your accidental magic."

"Us?"

"Us, at the Ministry commemoration."

"Ah, your peers. But, what accidental magic?"

"The one when you magically played bagpipes when you were just a baby. That Dumbledore told her Aunt."

"It's the other way around, Amelia told Albus after she learned the story from Dolly. She had a knack for pulling out information from the Manor elves, which she would utilise to constantly harass me about…"

Hermione knew it was irrational to feel grudge with the fact that Dolly knew Amelia. The dead MLE Head was indeed familiar with Minerva like no other witch. Of course, they were closest of friends… She knew that…

_But were they just friends?_

Like a serpent slithering inside Hermione, an unpleasant thought seeped into her heart, one that is quite morphing into a green-eyed monster… And yet, the misgiving feeling of raw jealousy is mixing with genuine curiosity… about Minerva and Amelia.

"Minerva, were you and A…?" Hermione was horrified upon dawning on her of what she was about to ask…

"I and what?

"It was noth—"

"Not, nothing! Tell me…" Minerva nudged her.

"You don't have to answer if—"

"Hermione…" Minerva warned.

"Alright. I was about to ask if you and Amelia have been… I meant, were you ever… together? As a couple…"

"Oh Merlin, no! You could not find a witch more loving of a knob than Amelia…" Minerva chuckled.

Hermione wryly grinned, as much as it pleased her that she does not have to measure against Amelia Bones is such a way, she would rather not know _ **that**_ about the dead witch who she had learned at MLE as a tough as a nail Boss.

"Why was she never married?" Hermione asked in order to shift the discussion a bit. "I heard she was once a heart rob at the Ministry…"

"She has…had a strange manner of measuring the worthiness of something like spending a lifetime with one chap…"

"I don't follow your meaning?"

"Amelia didn't think that being in a relationship with only one chap is worth it."

"You've got to be kidding me! She likes sleeping around?"

"Not in a wanton way... She had her rendezvous… But she was indeed extremely playful and too smart that none knew about that except me… But truthfully, the more serious reason that she decided not to get married was that the lost of her entire family, except Susan, had never fully healed her heart."

"They say that Amelia survived because she was not with them."

"Yes, she was on a mission with me… After that first war, Amelia put every second of her day and night for Law and Order and Justice and only decompressed after a decade of peace and quiet… Only for Voldemort to return and kill her himself."

"I'm sorry you've lost her…"

"Well… War…" Minerva expelled a breath before turning to give Hermione a kiss and said, "Amelia would have liked you... very, very much…"

 _If Amelia had survived the last war, would Minerva tell her friend about them?_ Hermione was deliberating on these thoughts when Minerva stirred her back, as she started talking again about the deceased Amelia Bones.

"Anyway, when we were younger, Amelia did have strings of conquered men, except wizards they were not. She only dated muggle men, albeit most did not get past second dates… Don't tell Susan or anyone. I am certain hundred percent that I am the only one who knows about that of the great MLE Boss Amelia Bones… And now, you… And darling, that is a categorical _**no**_ about Amelia and I…"

_A categorical no…_

"I confess though, I once kissed Amelia."

"WHAT?"

"That was imprecise… Actually, Amelia kissed me."

 _Do I want to know?_ Hermione mentally asked herself but before she could decide, Minerva was apparently telling her the story.

"It was when I finally put a name to what I was questioning about myself when I was growing up that she simply blurted it out loud for me."

"She _outed_ you?"

"In a manner of speaking. But to be fair, she outed me to me…"

"How did it happen?"

"It was Christmas break of my seventh year, and I had every intention of staying at Hogwarts. Amelia was just in her fourth year. But you had no idea how strong headed she was when she put something she want to do... And to cut the story, she convinced her parents to give her permission to come home to the Manor with me and us going to the Bones on Christmas day. Surely she concocted a tale of how I needed her company. And then she smartly arranged everything that Albus merely shooed me away when I told him I was going home... Technically I came of age that October. I could go home without Albus accompanying me home or arranging a chaperone, as Ministry requirement for underage students and Amelia already had her parents' approval that I was to be her _adult_ company. It happened on the second day upon arriving at the Manor, while we were raiding my family's whiskey reserve—"

"You were drinking? She was just fourteen!"

"Fifteen. And we were merely browsing through the—"

"Really?"

"Alright. " Minerva chuckled at Hermione's arresting tone. "We took not more than a finger, Ma'am…" She managed though her laughter while jesting, "Do you want to hear the story?"

"Fine." Hermione laughed back at Minerva's amusing contention. "Continue your story."

"Amelia asked if I wanted to participate in an experiment."

" _Minerva, lets try something, would you allow it?"_

" _So long it will not kill or worse expel us, Eli. I'm graduating in few months, I do not want to jeopardise that..."_

" _Of course it will not get us expelled! What do you think of me, deranged?"_

" _Alright. What then?"_

" _You have to close your eyes."_

" _Why?"_

" _It's an experiment. Just close them for a moment. "_

" _Can we have another experiment without having me to close my eyes?"_

" _Ouch. You don't trust me then?"_

" _Such dramatic. Alright, I will close my eyes, but in five seconds, I am opening them."_

" _Sure. Sure."_

"Then not one second after I shut my eyes, Amelia kissed me. Full mouth... My eyes flew open wide, and my heart race to the matter of revelation to a question I was not fully aware I was asking about myself… It was not because I wanted to kiss Amelia, which I was certain of… It was more about not _**not**_ wanting to kiss a woman… And then it was chaos in the Manor because while it was unraveling to me, Amelia was such a know-it-all mouth."

" _Nope. I do not fancy women… But fucking beard, Minerva McGonagall I think you do! Very much so that you are willing to kiss your sister!"_

" _Fuck you, Amelia. YOU kissed me."_

" _Oww, you would NOT do your sister. And I am underage. But since I love you, in a non-sexual way, I will be your right hand in finding you a splendid lady."_

" _Stop it, Amelia."_

" _And I know you would prefer such beauty comes with intelligence. The question though, could a beautiful and intelligent lady withstand your severe stiffness?"_

"That's when I drew my wand. At first she laughed at it but after my first jinx hit her, she drew her wand as well. Spells after spells and we were on the verge of seriously harming each other when Dolly bound us to stop the fight. Amelia and I turned on Dolly for the embarrassment, but we could do nothing when magically bound on the sofa. And no ordering from me could make Dolly release us. Eventually Amelia started giggling at our pathetic efforts to be free… It was bloody funny that I could not stop myself from following her laughter… Then we were rolling on the floor with more laughter when Dolly untied us. When the laughter finally ended, to my horror, I started crying at the enormity of what I fully uncovered about myself. Amelia just held me and swore to be always there by my side, until I settled down with my splendid lady…"

Minerva just told her coming out story and Hermione released her breath she did not know she was holding. She thought of the circumstances, of that period, when Minerva finally admitted to herself that she was gay. Of the time when it was absolutely different than today…

Hermione had long learned that the Wizarding world has been liberally progressing during the last couple of decades regarding homosexuality. That many Wizarding societies put in the legal measures to ensure equal rights and protection. A concept that Hermione realised the Muggles are still struggling to put forth.

But then, Minerva's self discovery happened decades before there has been wide acceptance, before legal reception. To factor in the very characteristic of the woman, and of who she is in

And although abundance of tolerance is available in this century, it could be not as easy for someone like Minerva McGonagall to just switch the gear. For fuck's sake, Hermione realised that she herself is quite not out there in the open.

"So darling, I _**never**_ slept with Amelia, if that was what you wanted to ask…"

Hermione heard Minerva loud and clear and she was contemplating on what to respond when Minerva took all thoughts in her head with what she offered next in confession.

"I did not sleep with Bellatrix as well."

Hermione did not see that coming. And it utterly rendered her unable to respond. All at once, all the insecurities and fears assaulted every fiber of her being… Five years and she had plenty of moments when she wondered on how she and Minerva would ever tackle every grave complication between them. But she did not ever consider their return to such stage of dire confrontation following the statement, ' _ **I did not sleep with Bellatrix as well'.**_

"Hermione, it is time we talk of the things we left unsaid."

* * *

**_End of Chapter 31._ **

**_Saoirse and Amelia_ **


	32. Bella

**Year 2005 – 4th Seventh of May**

**Continuation**

* * *

_Five years and she had plenty of moments when she wondered on how she and Minerva would ever tackle every grave complication between them. But she did not ever consider their return to such stage of dire confrontation with the statement, 'I did not sleep with Bellatrix as well'._

_"Hermione, it is time we talk of the things we left unsaid."_

* * *

"I know that there are several matters that we both need to finally speak of. And with your line of questioning the last time we were here… I know that Bellatrix _is_ one of them… Let me completely address that one; before anything else."

There is no mistaking it; Minerva is plowing through the montage of mess between them… Of the deeply emotional chaos they've introduced themselves seven years ago, and one that they had muted for the last five years…

And apparently, Bellatrix Black Lestrange is first in the docket.

"I did not sleep with her." Minerva's brow drew together as she deliberately repeated her earlier declaration. She reached for Hermione's hands; holding them equally unyielding and yet gentle, "Never… I never touched Bellatrix."

Upon hearing Minerva's unequivocal statement about Bellatrix, Hermione knew that her heart's protective shields just fortified themselves. For there is this peculiar tendency in us wherein we'd rather let our minds race to full impetuousness when we find our hearts at the edge of some sort of unraveling. Most often, our self-preservation instinct would send us into overdrive and would strongly latch on anarchism… And as much as Hermione tried to hold back her antagonistic words, they were out before she knew it.

"But there was something between you two. She was special to you…"

Minerva drew in a deep breath in response, and the unseen depth it went was sending Hermione to ponder of how many ways that could go…

To absolute correctness?

To absolute imprecision?

Or perhaps to a distortion of both?

"I cannot say that you are wrong there…" Minerva slowly unlocked, of perhaps a long unspoken story. "Of the thousands of students I've had, I cannot consider Bellatrix Black as just one of them…"

At these words, Hermione's mind was suddenly filled with words from one Draco Malfroy— _Once upon a time,_ _a 15-year-old Bellatrix Black_ _, still untainted by darkness… fell in love…_ _Bellatrix was much in love that she was pulling the moon and the stars for the person she fell for…_

The unwanted recollection had fueled the spiraling force inside Hermione. Forming this imagined scenario of Minerva and Bellatrix involved in the course that makes her heart constricted. This had her unconsciously yanking her hands from Minerva, but the older woman would not let her.

"Darling, please…" Minerva quietly implored, and clasped Hermione's hands delicately tighter.

The imagery dispersed and Hermione realised her retreating actions. She forced herself to stop… to stop physically pulling away… to stop brewing her emotions into detonation without hearing the story from Minerva…

"You are correct to say that something happened." Minerva softly ran her fingers to the now invisible scar on Hermione's arms, and repeated the motion for three more times. And then failing to hide the rage, the pain, and the utmost guilt that splashed on her beautiful face... "But it is not what you think, Hermione."

Hermione could only guess that Minerva is probably seeing in her mind both the memories of Bellatrix with a bleeding hand as a student from her own shenanigans, and then… of Hermione's arm with a carved mudblood as cruel abuse from Bellatrix…

"I already told you of the story of when I caught Bellatrix with her knife," Minerva visibly winced as she began.

Sometime ago, Hermione already did the math. And more or less arrived that during Bellatrix's bleeding-hand-episode, Minerva was in her late thirties… And no doubt as beautiful as ever… And Hermione could add the recently learned detail that at that time, Minerva had been completely oblivious of her magical ageing… Thus, Bellatrix definitely saw this raw face of Minerva, plus adding the fact that she was literally not even in her 40s.

"She was in her fifth year and it was my fourteenth year of teaching at Hogwarts. I thought, I've already figured out all the relevant schemes to deal with young people between eleven to about eighteen year old… When she showed up early for detention and bearing gifts, of course I knew the juvenile manipulation. And I was so sure I've terminated such foolishness before that detention ended."

Minerva is attempting to provide the backdrop of the story involving Bellatrix, possibly to explain the perspective she had had. But Hermione had long grasped that Minerva probably never surmised at that time how it was cathartic for the fifteen-year-old teenager from the House of Black.

Hermione listened to Minerva's initial description of the general view which educators have when dealing with new and returning students. That while they avoid falling into complete hasty generalization, they are quite on the nose by Hollow's eve on how a student would be spending the rest of school year in terms of whether an actual studying would be happening or not, especially for older students.

"The fifth year students are often the trickiest, even more than those in seventh year, as by and large this is the year when most youngsters are finding the concept of serious dating, dealing with undeniable physical changes, and all the while knowing they would need to take their OWLS, which would set their adult path… What I'm saying is, there are more or less categories that students fall into that help teachers discern the necessary approach in order to aid them in school."

Hermione thought that she must have been an obvious 'swot' from the get-go. And to her surprise, Minerva said the same thing about herself. It rendered Hermione a bit flustered for vocalizing her thoughts unintentionally.

"Albus used to harass me about it when we trained for my mastery. How my nose has always been buried in books when I am not brooding away from people. He had expected me to rebel with both notion and claimed that it was his method to get inside my head, with the goal to make me drop my overthinking self and better tap my magical instincts."

Instead of accepting the geniality brought by Minerva's latest enlightenments, Hermione chose animosity once again. "And now you're about to tell me that Bellatrix fitted our little category," which she regretted as soon as she said it.

It doused the little amusement from Minerva's face and she quieted for few minutes. When she finally responded, her voice returned equally unguarded and reflective.

"No, actually… Bellatrix Black was one of those who would only give the barest minimum… It was quite common for those who have spell work coming naturally in spades because they've been drilled with the preconception of their magical talents such as birthright. She, like most of her kind didn't care much about school marks. At least for the first four years in school…"

Minerva proceeded to tell her that merely a week following that detention, she started noticing that Bellatrix was giving more effort in class. Not too long, other Professors started mentioning the same progress about Bellatrix. Consequently, it landed her with Es and Os in her O.W.L.s.

"By the time she returned for her sixth year, she was displaying quite advanced skills for her age..."

Hermione could not help herself; her mind has suddenly invited Sirius Black's long ago spoken words— _'You know Hermione, they've said that my cousin was quite the brilliant student at Hogwarts._ '

When Harry's godfather imparted them with Hermione, she did not know it would be something crucially connected to Minerva. She did not know anything about Bellatrix that time, except that the imprisoned witch was Sirius' cousin and a very loyal follower of Voldemort. She filed away the information without having a clue that many, many years later, she would be receiving the substantiation of Bellatrix's faculties when she was a student, and accounted by Minerva no less.

"When you are a teacher, that's one of the things you hope for… for your students. It gives you a sense of purpose, a sense of feat that you are doing your job properly. When young people become better in every way while they are at Hogwarts— it validates the decision I've made in terms of leaving the Ministry. I know I was faring well during my 5-year stint there, people deemed it daft of me to swap that career for Hogwarts. Oh, well… I never regretted it."

Since Hermione's transfer to MLE, she learned more of the actual heralded Ministry work Minerva had accomplished. She came across many citations of current inter-department resolutions deriving from Minerva's effort.

Technically, Hermione has been surpassing the promotion ladder than any other Ministry officers, present and past, including Minerva's. However, anyone would not negate that Minerva had trail blazed so much more work against anyone's first five years at the Ministry, all considering the tumultuous period when she worked there. Hermione has no doubt that had Minerva stayed on, she'd be the Minister long before Millicent Bagnold took the post.

Hermione's full attention returned to the present when Minerva's one hand left hers to rub her own face in an effort to rid some of the building tension before the older witch resumed into her narrative of her past, one that was tangled with Bellatrix Black.

"As Bellatrix grew into a better witch… in my mind, I was much convinced that I had a direct hand with her remarkable growth. Of her incredible developing skills… I didn't… It never occurred to me that I was missing another piece of the picture… Not until…it was nearing the end of her sixth year, Albus knocked on my quarters one afternoon."

. . . . . . .

"What is the problem, Albus?"

"My dear, what makes you think—"

"I already heard your sigh just before you stepped in."

"Your Animagus hearing is impeccable—"

"And the grim on your face is as if you've lost your bag of sherbet lemon."

"Ahhh… Your observation skill—"

"Albus, Come out of it. I still have half stack of second year's essays, which I pray would be less dismal than the first half I've painstakingly read, because if not, I am inclined to make all of them return next year in the same year... Or perhaps, I've become a wretched teacher you ought to fire?"

Dumbledore chuckled a bit but didn't say anything else. When moments extended without another word from him, Minerva paused in her marking and raised a questioning eyebrow. Only then he was obligated to get on with his purpose.

"I was passing one hallway when I heard students talking…"

"And?" Minerva asked, after the great wizard seemed unlikely to resume.

"The business they were conversing was something of delicacy…" He responded with vagueness while absentmindedly summoning one parchment from Minerva's desk with wandless and wordless magic.

"Must we play the prompt game?" Minerva's answer came laconic after Albus deferred to respond for the third time. "Didn't I just mention that I have essays to mark?"

"I apologise, Minerva. I am constructing the proper manner to tell you."

Minerva's forehead furrowed, and her hand stopped writing. After a second, she placed her quill into its stand and set aside the parchment she was perusing.

"All right, Albus. I am sorry. But please, leave the obfuscation and just tell me."

Albus sighed and commenced to let out the very topic that brought him to Minerva's office.

"The Blacks Missus were chatting of their future plans… Bellatrix Black was telling her sisters that after she finishes Hogwarts, she has every intention to ask—" Albus gestured towards Minerva before he reservedly finished, "to ask _YOU_ to marry her…"

"Hah." Minerva short snickers came out upon hearing Albus' narration. She resumed in her marking of the essays; a move that seemingly dismissed the topic for she did not think there was something for her to say about an irrelevant chitchat from students.

"Well?" Albus questioning tone made Minerva look back at him. She found his eyes with an unspoken soft demand for her to say more.

A shrug she gave him before she laughingly said, "Just the other day, Filius reported that one of his seventh year, Mr. Adams, I think was the student. He was caught passing paper during class. He had written that if he had to choose to marry one of the Professors at Hogwarts, he would definitely pick me. Apparently, the House of the Intellects has succumbed to debate about interesting viable options if unfortunately they would have to marry one of Hogwarts' staff... I must be the favourite Professor of the week!"

"Minerva..." Albus clicked his tongue, wandlessly and silently returned the held parchment to Minerva's desk, vacated his seat, went to the window, and unseeingly watched some students who are frolicking in the training grounds.

"Albus?" Minerva's manner had shifted from casual to somber, "What is it?"

The serious wave coming from the wizard has finally penetrated Minerva's attention. This made her completely relinquished her marking activity and went to Albus.

"What is the matter? What is this trepidation of yours about Miss Black's youthful antics? The entire Seventh Year Ravenclaws is having a sport on this, something that I had expected you to be amused about."

"I am certain the Ravenclaws are currently entertaining themselves. But Miss Black's pronouncement is not the same."

"I do not see how it is not… Apart from that, don't you remember what we had laughed about last week? About a student named Miss Clarke?"

Minerva was referring to a silly fifth-year girl who had submitted her essay to Professor Oscar, the wizard who is currently teaching the DADA course. The mentioned essay happened to contain none of the lessons but a long declaration of the student's all consuming love for Professor Oscar…

"You were seeing the comic of that, as well." Minerva pointed out, "Which by definition is the same silliness of what you've heard today from Miss Black."

Albus turned to Minerva and scrutinised her face. The witch momentarily wondered if the old wizard was employing legilimency with such intensity directed at her. But before she could attempt occlumency to shield her mind, Albus dropped his gaze and returned looking outside the window.

"Are you definite that you did not misplace your sherbet lemon?" Minerva tried to inject humour as she gently made the wizard faced her again.

"Ah…" Albus weakly smiled at Minerva's effort to lighten up.

"Do not make me worry for whatever it is that you are worrying about, especially when I do not even know it." Minerva's face screwed in confusion. "Please, speak openly."

And then Albus Dumbledore did.

"It is my belief that Miss Black has found herself in-love with you, and much unlike the other students we have laughed about."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Since her fifth year, Miss Bellatrix Black has fallen in love with you. "

"Then a student's infatuation, no doubt. And you are giving this with undue importance because?"

"Minerva, I am not giving it undue importance..."

"You are."

"Minerva, tell me that you are at least aware that the girl has taken great deal of listening to you since last year?"

"Yes." Minerva gave a dismissive shrug. "As I've I told you, I had a run-in with her beginning term last year… when she cut her hand with that horrendous knife, and gave her detention. Is Horace still implying that I'm stealing his Slytherin pure-bloods?"

"No. This has nothing to do with Horace."

"Good, because I'm done clearing it with him. And honestly, I thought it immature… The way I see it, he owes me for not disturbing his sleep to deal with a bleeding student that time. Poppy surely appreciated it."

"Yes, my dear. That is all settled… However, the point of the matter is, the eldest daughter of Cygnus and Druella Black has developed a great personal interest in you since last year… And the girl had returned this term, more certain of these sentiments."

"That is quite over the top... Yes, the girl and I have struck a bargain between us, unplanned though… But I am glad to take the opportunity to open my door to another student from another house because obviously—"

"Are you truly oblivious to the extreme effort the girl has been exerting for you?"

"Albus! Did you just call me daft?"

"No, Minerva… Nonetheless, tell me that you are sincerely unknowing of this?"

"What is _THIS_ you are prattling about?"

"All right. All right." Albus said in contemplation as he stroked his beard, "Lets start over, and have an evenhanded discussion…"

"Lessen theatrics, please." Minerva huffed and unconsciously crossed her arms over her chest.

"For this school year alone," Albus warily began in explanation, "There is a good reason behind the significant decline of incidents in relation to the vicious bickering between Slytherin and Gryffindors…"

Minerva made a quick mental recollection. It led her to acknowledge the lesser number of episodes compared with last year, and the year before the last…

When Albus saw the recognition of such truth on Minerva's face, he persisted his belief, "I've gathered that this was due to Miss Black's behest…"

"Let's say, you are right… How, when she's not even in her seventh year?" Minerva curiously questioned.

"Due to her tremendous advanced skills… She's displaying them liberally, and put together with her usual artful material generosity, she is able to secure a certain commandeering over her housemates. I've seen it played out on several occasions. And usually I found the culmination as intended to please you..."

"To please me?" Minerva groaned at the exaggerated account from Albus.

"Yes. The machinations were mostly subtle, but they were there."

"Are you certain you are not merely being inventive and seeing meaning when there is none?" Minerva skeptically questioned... Vaguely, she knew that Albus could become quite mad at her insinuation, but then, she knew she is one of the few who could get away with it.

"I am old, my dear, but assure you I have yet to lose my wits and imagine things. Truth be told, I do not know how this has escaped your keen mind."

"Could you cite a specific case of this— this machination— intended to please me?" Minerva gently challenged.

Albus tilted his head in apparent recollection and Minerva was about to interrupt when he stated, "Your cubs did not suffer any deliberate fouls during the last Quidditch match against the Slytherin team that resulted a win for your team."

"They won that match fair and square." Minerva protested.

"Exactly… The usual shenanigans were missing. And it was an exciting match!" Albus retorted.

"And why do you think that had something to do with Miss Black?"

"It has everything to do with her threat to leave your cubs unharmed, for the Slytherins to play without illegal fouls. Furthermore, It was said that the threat came with a promise of a great treat if no harm done."

"Albus, why are we gossiping about students? Don't you find this preposterous?"

"You asked me for a specific incident… And I know that you have heard, just as nearly everyone in this castle, of the free flowing drinks, cakes, and candies that had been sponsored by Miss Black for her housemates during the last Hogsmead trip, as if they have won the game! When it was the mere completion of the promised treat."

That silenced Minerva…for she did know and has confirmation of such event...

Moreover, during said Hogsmead trip, she and Professor Oscar who served as chaperones were offered free drinks as well, which they of course, politely refused.

And what she won't tell Albus is that when they returned from Hogsmead, Bellatrix Black was knocking on her office door, and gave an explanation/apology for the inappropriateness of the offered drinks to her and Professor Oscar.

And then a second set of explanation/apology for the spending spree she made for her housemates... Which Minerva found absolutely odd as to why Bellatrix was explaining/aplogising about the treat, until later she heard the magnitude of the spending. That was when she connected the second apology she received. She understood that Bellatrix was apologising for seemingly not following her advice on generosity.

But as most things circulating amongst student body outside of their lessons, she did not give more thought to it…

And now… She is torn between hitting her own head and hitting Albus for the dimmer notion presented to her…

"Albus," Minerva wearily returning to their original topic, "We have seen a great share of this transient pursuit by students, more so by you… You must not take exception with Miss Black's fleeting 'personal fascination."

"Miss Black is highly talented, intelligent, and very Slytherin… And apparently decided to make you the center of her world."

"That's excessive, even for you Albus... No matter, for whatever the case may be, the girl is almost 17 and certainly will outgrow it very soon…"

"The girl is already a young woman, and with an intellect higher than some adults…"

"She is still young… A very young person who is probably getting delight in playing this game."

"It is no game, I assure you. Also, you were barely 14 years old when you were making life-altering deci—"

"That was different. That was war…"

"Given the whispers in some groups, I fear that we are heading to the same contention."

"You mean the talk of another dark wizard uprising? Surely, we have learned better to let lunatic corrupt our principles."

"People will always have a peculiar manner of learning the lessons of the past… But let's not talk of that, right now…" Albus deeply sighed as he dismissed the troubling thought and returned to issue of Bellatrix. "Minerva, I just want you to give thought on this."

"She is a student, perhaps infatuated with the idea of me, but she will soon laugh at herself about it. They _all_ do, eventually."

"I hope for your sake that you are right. But my dear Professor, you are not without a brilliant mind, and you know the value of provision. May your utmost devotion as a teacher not blindside you from giving credence to the situation at hand."

"Charming, how I am a brilliant devoted blind Professor!" Minerva threw out her sarcastic remark.

"Add stubborn to the list, my dear." Albus retorted, matching Minerva's sarcasm. And he held up one hand to interrupt Minerva's incoming explosion.

Minerva gets hold of her infamous temper by pressing her lips together. From where she's standing, she really does not understand the trepidation that Albus has insisted. Admiring students come and go and through the years, Minerva has learned to harvest the advantages of it in terms of rousing the young people's potential while they are under their care instead of giving it undue concern. In the same vein, this is Albus Dumbledore, she knew that he must know something else.

After some time, Albus calmly said, "I have no wish to cause you anxiety." He briefly squeezed Minerva's arms before he dropped them.

Minerva caught Albus' brief wordless deliberation with oneself along with a genuine apprehension flashing on his face. She asked tersely, "What is it that you're not telling me?"

Albus silently deliberated, again, and he must have concluded to come clean when he said to Minerva, "I had thought I could generally make my point without having to tell you some other things I have—"

"Start talking without revision." Minerva interrupted as she was quite running out of patience. But to take out the sting, she added, "Please... Just tell me. I do not wish to go about blind on this."

"All right…" Albus relented and visibly steeled himself, "Miss Black told her sisters that you are unquestionably suitable for her, as you are Beautiful, intelligent, not without great magical skills, and that McGonagall is an acceptable bloodline."

"Oh, excellent to have a not so shabby bloodline—"

Minerva's sarcastic reply did not miss by Albus as one of her coping mechanism. But the appearing irate on his face was quickly dismissed, which replaced with clear concern when he threw in the last card.

"Bellatrix also told her sisters, that most of all, she is certain that Minerva McGonagall favors the fairer sex…"

That— knocked out Minerva.

The internal walls Minerva has built undeniably shot up and mostly like reinforced its impregnability. Physically, Albus watched her straightened her posture and crossed her arms.

"I've never conducted myself with anything less befitting my post inside or outside of this castle." Minerva hushed with barely repressed indignation.

"Minerva…" Albus carefully pressed on, "According to Bellatrix Black, she had seen you last summer, in Muggle Paris… And I quote— Escorting one beautiful brunette in a flowing crimson dress… and being more than friendly in a fancy hotel… End quote."

Emerald eyes widened, and Minerva endured Albus' grave discerning blue eyes for undetermined period before she withdrawn them. And then moved away from him to seek some sort of reprieve.

Distractedly, she moved behind her desk but did not sit down. She paced back and forth quite a few times until ultimately, she marched to one armchair and harshly sat down.

"Bloody eejit! Heid the baw! Awa' n' bile yer heed, you fuckin' roaster…" Minerva murmured strings of Gaelic expletives and it went on for several more minutes before she surrendered into restless silence. She rubbed her temples and tried to both recall and not recall that summer.

After some time, her attention shifted to Albus as he accio'd a chair in front of her. When he sat down, he took her stiff hands into his.

"I only understood two words from what you've last said. Something tells me that I must not wish for a translation, but I hope neither was about, or for me…"

"No." Minerva snorted, "They were all directed at myself."

Minerva internally re-grouped herself before she warily attempted an explanation, but words failed her at the moment, meanwhile a fresh barge of Gaelic curses paraded inside her mind.

Albus bid to interrupt her ongoing silent discomposure with a firmer grip on her hands, and once again blue eyes held steady of emeralds.

"Minerva, it was _your_ summer vacation. Where, and with whom you spent it is no business of anyone… You are not compelled to tell me, unless you are opting to share the story with your _old friend_." Albus brought her hands to his chest before tenderly letting them go, while saying to her, "Preferably over a cuppa or your finest scotch when we play chess."

This time, Minerva half chuckled and half sob before she rambled, "Albus, I was in Paris… And we… She… The woman… If my memory serves me right, the woman I've spent two weeks in Paris was indeed in a flowing crimson dress on the day we parted. But I swear, outside a confined chamber… I would not… Albus, I would never behave thoughtlessly—"

"My dear," Albus stopped Minerva as she was well on her way to working herself into absolute dread… "I am entirely confident that it is more likely for the Board of the Governors to give Hogwarts unlimited provision without a thread of caveat, than you galvanizing public attention, most specially in relation to your personal life."

"I am not ashamed of myself, Albus. But I want my private life… private… left unmarked… And not for scrutiny, not for approval, not threatened by anyone."

"You, of all people should know…that I do understand you… And I am certain that you can hold yourself magnificently against any circumstance, or anyone, for that matter…"

"Thank you, Albus… But… But I have to say… Or rather, I don't know what to say… I do not know how Ms. Black had…"

"Perhaps it is only of grave coincidence that of all students, she was the one to have seen you…"

"And if not? What does that mean? What do you think it means?"

"That we must examine the credence over the need to judiciously deal with Ms. Black. "

"You know that I deal with students with the same accord. For whatever she may or may not know… or whatever interest she has in me… I do not want to cower or favour."

"I am not saying that you do… But we must agree that this warrants unusual consideration from your end. Not to do so would be foolhardy."

"She's a student. And in my book, that is the scope of my consideration—"

"Listen to me, Minerva… The last thing we want to happen is to have Professor Minerva McGonagall be viciously maligned by a rejected student…"

"Would this warrant my resignation?" Minerva angrily asked.

"Absolutely not! And that is most irrelevant… You are the finest Transfiguration Professor there is… Bear in mind that _I_ once taught the same course and yet in my honest opinion, you are the best—"

"Be serious, Albus."

"I am… No one can beat your brilliance in Transfiguration, Minerva. I believe you are Nonpareil at it. There is a reason why you hold the top rank, and would do so for long undetermined period."

"But you expect me to curtail handling of my student—"

"I expect you to employ the wisest of actions… I know this is not ideal, or maybe contradictory with your principles as a teacher and as a private person. But I know that we are in accord that Bellatrix Black has the resources, the intelligence and the skills even at young age. Further, she is Slytherin, through and through… And belongs to a very influential family name… One misstep and we may have to deal with more than a juvenile problem."

And Minerva was left to agree with Albus Dumbledore's presentiment regarding one student, named Bellatrix Black.

. . . . . . .

After that lengthy narration by Minerva, the older witch lapsed into grave silence… However, evidently displaying on her face is such battle of emotions. Rage, resignation, and sorrow— just some of the dominant ones caught by Hermione. On the other hand, she found herself confronting focal matters that have been confirmed by Minerva's admission… Thoughts she had long reflected…

Of all the Slytherins…

Of all the Hogwarts Professors…

Of all the Death-Eaters who could've tortured her physically and verbally…

And then of all the witches Bellatrix had fallen in love with…

Of all the witches Hermione had fallen in love with…

Indeed, a bloody interconnecting hell of herself and one extremely mad Death Eater Bellatrix Black Lestrange. And such fact striking through one woman— none other than Minerva McGonagall.

"Albus had known…"

Hermione heard Minerva resumed speaking and she drove away the forbidding emotions threatening to explode. She knew that there is more to the story that she ought to hear, and more for her to absorb if she aims to comprehend someone like Minerva McGonagall.

"More than anything, Albus understood that a breached privacy would give me the greatest grief… And he was entirely right that it would have been a grave misjudgment to not heed any caution in handling the situation. Bellatrix was of course, not just from any family but also from one with serious range to ruin reputation."

Hermione knew that the Blacks are not only part of the sacred twenty of the Wizarding British, but also one of the elites in such roster because of their extensive wealth and connections… And not to mention, one of the first on board with Tom Riddle to wage war in the name of pureblood supremacy.

"Generally, the awareness made me regard extra forethought when dealing with the students, not just with Bellatrix. But true enough, here and there I've observed her artful machinations, as Albus had labeled. They weren't really violating school policies. In truth, one could say they were contributing to lesser skirmish amongst student body despite the brewing political debate happening outside the school. It is as if, some of the pureblood students are waiting their cue from her. And since she was wordless about it, many are following suit."

Hermione has read enough of Tom Riddle's first war that she knew that silent picking of sides started at the tail end of the decade in the 60s… And by quick mental math, the exact year of publicly declaration through dark mark imagery blazing in the sky was after Bellatrix had graduated Hogwarts.

"After my conversation with Albus, as months passed, nothing major involving Bellatrix transpired. Nothing until that term ended. The following school year opened and still Bellatrix was just keeping below the radar despite the noisier political bout outside. She was going about her NEWTS classes with obvious goal to excel. It almost made me decide that Albus was giving it too much weight. Except, all his forewarning had spelled itself, on the first Saturday of October…"

Of course, it was Minerva's birthday.

. . . . . . .

Minerva just stepped out from her bedroom into the outer room when a tap on her door disturbed the silence that commonly dominates such early morning, particularly when it is a Saturday and the castle's residents are opting to lounge longer in bed.

She did a tempus charm and confirmed that it was indeed so early; it was barely five in the morning. Her animagus hearing could catch feet shuffling behind the door before another soft knock sounded, an indication that the person behind was intent on seeing her. Despite wanting to not attend to anyone at the moment, her sense of duty prevailed.

As she went to her door, she quickly casted a spell that sent her loosely braided hair into its usual bun and slipped into everything that constitutes Professor McGonagall persona.

Minerva found seventh-year Bellatrix Black to be the early visitor; one who rushed her greeting, and her apology as she was standing with her hands on her back at her doorstep.

"Good morning Professor McGonagall! My deepest apology to disturb you at such unsocial hour… May I come in, Professor?"

Truthfully, Minerva wanted to say no. But since her discussion with Albus about Bellatrix, she yielded to give due cautiousness with the manner of which she interacts with said student... Of wilfully maintaining a proper mixture of professional tolerance and authoritarian rigorousness.

Minerva granted entry. She gestured to the chesterfield as soon as she shuts the door and casually ordered the student to take a seat as she herself took the armchair adjacent to it.

"Thank you, Professor. I have no intention to take too much of your time." Bellatrix cordially responded as she unheeded Minerva's instruction to sit down. Instead, she elected to stand before the older woman. "I just wanted to greet you Happy birthday!

"Oh… Right. Thank you, for the greeting."

Minerva actually forgot. Well, not really forgot since three days ago, she received from Albus an advanced birthday gift, a recently published autobiography of an American poet Maya Angelou. But strictly speaking, she had not realised yet that it is indeed her birthday since she woke up this morning.

"And this is for you." Bellatrix brought her hands from behind her and presented something to Minerva. "Please, please do not refuse to accept this." She hurriedly stated her appeal after obvious rejection appeared on Minerva's face.

Minerva was startled at Bellatrix's plea not to be refused. Nonetheless, in the next moment, she called on the sternest version of Professor McGonagall, "I have already discussed with you about gift giving—"

"I know… " Bellatrix passionately interrupted. "I promise that I do remember your point about gift giving and the falsity of it… It was terrible of me to give you that quill in order to buy your favor for easy detention… But I promise, this is not the same of its nature."

Bellatrix took a step and all the more outstretched her hands; this consequently brought the gift closer to Minerva. It was approximately a 4x4-inch velvet box being presented to her.

"Please, open it…"

Minerva did not do such thing.

 _Blasted Albus._ Minerva thought and her irate doubled for she was certain that she would have dismissed this student without hesitation if not for his complex forewarning.

She stood up to gain a sort of physical leverage. Her mind was already half composing on how to reject Bellatrix's gift in a subtle and yet definitive fashion.

Regrettably, her action prompted Bellatrix to proceed with opening of the box herself. Minerva was once again stunned, at the action and at the designer type bracelet put forth for her, and her attention was throughly drawn by the magic attached to it…

Then she was ever more shocked when the Slytherin student pulled off a succession of quick movements that involved magically floating the item towards Minerva's wrist and fastening around it. All seemingly in a blink of an eye, the Professor found herself wearing the bracelet.

"It had taken a great deal of my summer to find a brilliant bracelet with this kind of design. When I figured I wouldn't find one in our world, I had to go to this famous muggle jewellery store that caters to customisation. And then it took me a greater deal of perfecting the transfiguration and charms I've put into it…" Bellatrix related with pride in her voice.

Minerva realised that she was backed into a problematic situation. First, she felt the desire to hastily remove the bracelet, one that was fastened to her without permission. She was also controlling the urge to rip it off for she knew that it'd be anything but unwise. And instantaneously, the teacher in her was considering giving praise over the remarkable magic embedded, that is usual above the capacity of underage students.

The bracelet was indeed exquisite and obviously costly. The custom design comprises a bounded sitting cat engraved into a precious stone on one end, of which the magic was affixed, as the animal is animated and gracefully circulating the chain— professedly running around Minerva's wrist.

"This is utterly beautiful. And quite impressive magic work." Minerva eventually went for frank truthfulness.

"I'm glad you find it so." Bellatrix beamed at the compliment.

"But I cannot accept this." Minerva served another forthrightness as she carefully but deliberately unclasped the bracelet, and handed it to Bellatrix.

"You can… Please…" Bellatrix pushed back Minerva's hand that held the bracelet.

"I am not taking—"

"Yes, yes! I know you have upstanding decorum and would regard material extravagance as unimportant; I swear I do not aim to tarnish that. But Minerva McGonagall is equally known for her other principles— one of which is that you'd never neglect courtesy by refusing something that was entirely meant for you…"

Minerva was stunned, again, at the cleverly veiled manipulation. The given flattery through the emphasis of specific standards that she had indeed set for herself had almost made her confused whether to be angry or laugh at the displayed ingenuity. And in the same moment, she was reminded of Albus Dumbledore's pre-assessment of this girl— slashed young woman's potential, pre-disposition, and actual objective.

"Be that as it may," Minerva then edges towards her usual authoritarian rigorousness, than her easy toleration, "It is most improper for a Professor to accept such."

"But I did not give it to Professor McGonagall. I've given it to Minerva McGonagall."

Another crafty response uttered by Bellatrix. And Minerva McGonagall did not miss the use of her first name. This time though, it neared her at the end of her patience.

"Miss Black, I did not think you'd need to be called out in the matter of rightfully addressing your professor with their title—"

"No, no! I meant no disrespect. I… I sincerely apologise if you felt that I have disrespected you. But you are mistaken. I'd never do that to you. I'm merely drawing my point that this gift is not for Professor McGonagall, but for—"

"You are a student, Miss Black. My student. Are you not?"

"I am. Yes, I'm a student… your student. But not forever! In fact, I won't be in a matter of few months. And I will also be of age by then… Further, I know my family can easily get me any elevated ranking job at the Ministry, but I intent to genuinely earn it, which is why I'm going for several 'Outstandings' in my NEWTS. And I also plan to take higher education— mastery in Transfiguration and maybe Potion and Defense. That way, I won't just be a witch from a prominent family who buys my way with money, but a woman of my own, with my own path— resembling that one that you have taken."

Given who Bellatrix Black is, Minerva understood the entirety of what the she had said, including those she did not actually articulate… of the girl's unspoken but weighty intention— for herself, for her life… and alas, Minerva found herself in the center of Bellatrix's amorous construction.

Now, without a doubt, it spelled the misgivings that she had been alerted about by Dumbledore. And how she and Bellatrix have arrived at a juncture. Minerva made a swift risk calculation and concluded that delay is of no use, that it could be more treacherous if not clipped right now. And so, the Gryffindor in her compelled her to brave the inevitable.

Minerva opted to usher themselves to sit at the earlier ignored chesterfield, along the way placing the gifted bracelet on the coffee table across it. She mentally cursed Merlin before she donned on her face the most understanding countenance she could muster. And then she dove into the confrontation.

" **Bella** ," The name came out of Minerva before she could second-guess the wisdom of perusing the girl's shortened first name, one she only heard from Andromeda and Narcissa, "You are very intelligent and mature. I shall not offend you with false discussion…" She stated firmly, looking straight into attentive dark eyes of Bellatrix Black. "I cannot accept your gift… Today, or even when you are no longer my student."

"Why?"

"To accept is to feed you false hope."

There, Minerva rolled the first unmistakable refusal.

"You mean because you do not love me."

Even though Minerva had expected a somewhat similar reaction, Bellatrix's equally frank counter in a despondent tone still startled her. Perhaps because Bellatrix never sounded nor looked vulnerable in the six— almost seven years she has known the girl at Hogwarts… Additionally, it is a very contrast façade compared to the high-class Bellatrix Black that Minerva sees whenever the girl is out at public events as part of the Black Family entourage.

"I do care about you—"

"Please… You already said that you wouldn't belittle my intelligence…"

"You are right… Then there is no other way but to tell you that the extend of attachment I could offer is one from a mentor, or perhaps a friend…"

"Why? You do not think I am worthy of love."

"You are."

"Just NOT of your love."

"It is not like that... The truth of the matter is— I do not really know so much of love. But, I know that it is not enforced."

"But people fight for love, fight for the one inside their hearts. And your Gryffindor House is all about being brave to follow one's heart… I am doing just that, but you are as good as saying that being courageous is pointless."

"Courage is never pointless especially if fuelled together with love. But to lead you into a lie just so you could hear from me what you want to hear will do you no good. Plus, believe me that there's a reason why until now I am not settled with someone…"

"People say that it is because no wizard is good enough for you. And that is wholly due to Dumbledore's control on your life—"

"That is unfair judgment. It is has nothing to do with Dumbledore—"

"I agree. And I've deduced that it is because you have not met a witch worthy enough to risk your solidity. So, you have to give me a chance."

" **Bella** , I am sorry to have to tell you that I am not the one for you."

"Not yet because obviously I am still your student. But in time—"

"Please listen to me…" Minerva reached for the young Bellatrix hands and pressed to have her utmost comprehension in such moment. "I shall admit to you something very personal that I hope could make you understand… But, I want you to promise that you will not share it to anyone else."

"You do not have to force yourself to tell me something private in order to dissuade me."

"It is my hope that you will see that is for your own benefit to hear the truth from me…" After Minerva sensed a sort of accord from Bellatrix, she took a breath before she disclosed, "The reason I am not married, or settled down, or romantically with someone, is not because I am in love with Albus Dumbledore, or that he controls my personal life in whichever manner many have conjured of… That is not the case. The truth is— I do NOT believe that… that kind of bliss is for everyone."

"Do you meant that you do not believe in love?"

"I do believe in love. Amongst families, amongst friends... But I don't believe in romantic love."

"Why?"

"Mainly, the life I've had, which is more than twice the years that you have lived, it went through enough for me to believe that such design of love is not for all to have. Ultimately not one for me…"

"You are wrong not to believe. Life will prove you wrong when you learn to fall in love. My love for you will make you see—"

"We already agreed that you are intelligent. So, you must know that you cannot truly fall in love with someone when you do not even know them… That said, you do not know me. Yes, you know the Professor, but that is not entirely me."

"Then why won't you permit me to know you?"

"Because I already know myself. And I'm already certain that the end you aim will not be… And you will outgrow this, Bella... As you age, you will see the astuteness of this…negation. And perhaps you will laugh and be grateful that I did what I'm doing now, especially when you finally meet the person who is meant for you. There is someone out there for you, **Bella** , but it is not me."

With that, Bellatrix turned to face away from her and settled into silence. Minerva supposed that Bellatrix Black has ultimately recognised the merit of what she had imparted. She watched as various expression rushed over Bellatrix Black. Minerva patiently waited, as she knew the internal realisation must be tough to fully accept.

After a while, Bellatrix slowly rose from her seat. "Thank you for speaking to me frankly." She stated softly and moved to smoothen her skirt. She took in a deep breath, then completely straightened herself, raised her eyes to meet Minerva's emerald eyes before she continued in the same careful voice, "But may I ask a simple favour?"

"Only if I am capable or allowed to grant it." Minerva stated as softly, not wanting to disturb the seemingly break she got through with Bellatrix Black.

"I'd ask that you keep this…" Bellatrix gestured towards the bracelet. And immediately held up one hand before Minerva could object. "Only until I come back for it."

"When will that be?" Minerva asked in concession.

"I will come back for it… when I'm finally with the person I'm meant to be— who is not you…"

For a moment, Minerva was surprised to see Bellatrix's dark eyes that are normally cordial to her had become severe and stony. All at once, it introduced Minerva to the pureblood lineage. And before she could utter a response, Bellatrix dismissed their conversation.

"Have a great day, Professor. And again, may you have many returns."

* * *

 **End of** **Chapter 32 - Year 2005 – 4th Seventh of May**

**Chapter Title: Bella**

* * *

Gaelic translation:

Eejit = Idiot

Heid the baw = Idiot

Awa' n' bile yer heed, you fuckin' roaster = Go and boil your head, you twat

* * *

AN:

And I thank you for not giving up on this story :)

I hope this chapter gave you even a tiny bit of where Minerva was coming from, ye? How would Hermione take this? 


End file.
